Eclipsed by a Thorn
by Sarafina Knowles
Summary: A strange invitation sends Lisbon and the CBI team into New Jersey, where a frightening attack lands one of them in the nearest hospital: Princeton-Plainsboro. Amidst new love and painful memories, a certain shadow threatens to wipe out the team for good.
1. The Invitation

**Hey there! I'm here because I decided the world needs a new story, and first of all, this is going to be a cross-over. With... House MD! There's just not enough of them out there (only one other currently, which makes me so mad, because it makes an awesome story lol). Before anyone gets angry, I completely understand the guide-lines; but like authors before me, I was afraid no one would find my new story in the cross-over section, and as soon as people notice my story, I promise it will go to the cross-over section. So if you like it, make sure to favorite it so we don't lose each other! :)**

Now, this is going to be a sort of different story. I love Jisbon, but I know if it did happen, it wouldn't be as pretty as we all wish it could be. I want this story to delve deeper into their chemistry, and go deeper into all the characters of House MD and the Mentalist. It will all make sense soon, but expect more than a fluff: I plan some Red John, too.

So hey- stick around. Read it. Review if you want. I hope the world- or at least, the most awesome _people_ in the world ( :D) will like the first chapter. Hopefully, I'll see you around~

* * *

Chapter One: The Invitation

Some stories begin with the words, "Once upon a time."

But other stories begin with just one word.

"Invited."

"Invited?" Lisbon repeated.

Phones rang distantly, papers shuffled, words blended into a hot buzzing. Teresa Lisbon was standing at her desk, an open envelope in hand, eyes wide with surprise.

Someone knocked at her door.

"Who is it?" Lisbon muttered without looking up.

"Your favorite independent consultant," someone chirped.

Lisbon sighed as she slumped into her stiff chair, and glanced up. A head of golden blond curls and crinkling eyes stepped into her office. "My only independent consultant, thank god," she retorted.

Patrick Jane laughed and curiously spun around her desk, reading over her shoulder. Lisbon was holding a pretty piece of paper with doves and flowers engraved on the top, with beautiful golden writing saying, "You are invited to celebrate the wedding of William Raymond Lisbon and Molly Justine Byrd on Tuesday afternoon, November 28th, at Three o' Clock, in Princeton, New Jersey. RSVP 734-881-296."

"Wow," Jane chuckled. "Your brother's getting married?"

Lisbon blinked and put the card on her desk, shoving aside stacks of papers, manila folders and loose pens and paper clips. "I- I guess so," she stammered. "I mean, last time I called him he was getting serious about this one girlfriend, but I don't recall her name, and I never thought they'd marry..."

"Well, I'm sure no man starts out thinking he's gonna get married," Jane added.

Lisbon sighed. "Wow. Well, that's nice." Abruptly, she dropped a book across the silver invitation, and began leafing through it, waking up her computer.

Jane stared at her in surprise. "Wait- you mean you aren't going to go?"

Lisbon glanced up at Jane. His blond curls seemed wilder this morning; she wondered if he'd slept well last night. "I dunno, I haven't really stayed in touch with any of my brothers. And we're in California, New Jersey is across the fricken United States. You wanna know how much that costs?"

Jane frowned slightly, and then shrugged, going over to his couch and throwing himself down on it, folding his ankles calmly. "I'm sure it's cheaper than the cost of skipping a beautiful event in your own brother's life. But it's up to you, no guilt in my book." He sighed and closed his eyes, smiling to himself.

Lisbon glared at Jane. "Oh, I know what your doing. You're not guilting my into this, my brother just sent it because I'm just another name on some guest list." As she said this, she felt a little pang in her heart. Disgusted with herself, she brushed it away and tried to focus on her computer.

But her eyes kept straying to the book, in which was on top of the silver invitation, and after a long moment, she finally killed her pride and yanked it up, grabbing the phone.

"Alright, I'll call him, okay? Happy?" she snapped across the room at Jane, though she couldn't conceal the laughter in her eyes.

"Completely," came the smug reply.

She dialed the RSVP number and the phone began to ring. It kept ringing, and she sighed as it rolled to voice-mail.

"Hey, this is William, I'm either out right now or too busy with Molly to hear the phone, so you know, drop me a message and I'll get back to you. Bye."  
_  
Beeeeep._  
_  
So there's a Molly after all_, Lisbon thought to herself as she cleared her throat. "Oh, um, hey, Will, it's your sister, Teresa. Um, I was just calling to... to confirm that I can come to the wedding, and I'll be there. I mean- well, yeah.  
So I'm happy for you and Holly, and I'll see you in a few days. Well- bye," she finished, and snapped the phone in its cradle.

She rubbed her temples and gazed over to where Jane was laying. "He didn't pick up."

"Clearly."

Lisbon smirked. "Alright, jerk, I guess I'd better start packing, huh?"

Jane jumped up. "That's right. I'll inform the team we're going on a road trip."

Lisbon nodded, then froze. "Stop."

Jane smiled as he froze in place, hand almost on the doorknob to Lisbon's office.

"What do you mean, _we_?" she growled.

Jane took a deep breath and spun around. "Obviously, I'm not letting you go across the United States alone and with no protection. And anyways, it would be fun. We all need a trip every once in awhile, hmm?"

"But he's my brother, you don't even know him. Jane, seriously-"

"All the more reason to meet him. Make friends, you know?"

"Jane, I can travel across the US on my own, I'm not a child," Lisbon hotly told him, standing up.

Jane just smiled brightly. "You said it, not me," he replied, and was out the door.

Lisbon glared after him. "JANE!"

* * *

**So not too epic for a first chappy, but some fun Lisbon and Jane squabbling. So if ya liked it, review!! I'd offer all of you a ticket to meet Simon Baker for a review if I could, but some things just don't work like that. So instead... I can offer you a brand-new Mentalist episode this Thursday!!! (yayyyy) :)**

Peace~

-Sarafina--- 3 


	2. Arrival in the big NJ

**Hello, whoever is reading this. I'm back with the second chapter, hope whoever reads it likes. =)**

* * *

Chapter Two: Arrival in the big NJ 

After some well-done convincing towards Minelli and Bosco, and not to mention some serious digging-around in their wallets, the team was granted a few days to have the vacation Minelli knew each of them deserved.

Among the wild going-about in the airport, five friends walked through it, trailing bags and backpacks and purses.

Blurred overhead voices streamed through the speakers, and Lisbon found it hard to concentrate.

"Cho," Jane said suddenly as they strolled along. He carried the least of all, just a single small bag. "Is that a murse?"

Cho blinked and glanced at the black bag slung over his shoulder and landing in a pouch near his thigh. "What?"

"A murse," Jane repeated like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You know, a man purse?"

Cho stopped walking and folded his arms, facing Jane. "This is not a man purse. I don't carry purses."

Rigsby exchanged an amused look with Van Pelt as they all slowed.

"Really, Jane? Cho, ignore him," Lisbon ordered, eyes eating up the pamphlet of directions around the busy airport.

"I swear it looks like a man purse," Jane innocently insisted.

Cho's brow furrowed together. "It's simply a bag that I don't have to use hands to carry. It's helpful and simple, it's not a purse"

"I never said- well, okay, I guess I did," Jane thoughtfully cut across himself. "But it's funny, it's got a strap just like Van Pelt's-"

"It's not a _purse, _okay?" Cho snapped.

"Jane, get up here and leave him alone," Lisbon growled.

Jane grinned at Rigsby and strolled over to match paces with his boss. "Having trouble concentrating?" he guessed, glancing around.

"Yes, and you making fun of Cho like a little brat doesn't help things," Lisbon replied.

Jane smirked, eyes glowing. Lisbon could tell he was excited to get away from the office and be free out here. "I was just playing. And for the record, I don't find it crazy. It's interesting to walk in busy places like this. There's so much going on."

"Really?" Lisbon muttered.

"Boss, are we lost?" Van Pelt spoke up.

"I was a boyscout, I could help-" Rigsby started.

"I'm good, guys, thanks," Lisbon told them.

"Really," Jane continued their conversation. "Observing, all the action, the movement. I thrive in reading these people's stories."

"You can stop rubbing it in now, Jane," Lisbon sighed, though she was smiling, and finally looked up from her map. "Okay guys, I think I know where we're going now."

Van Pelt yawned, stroking her brilliant red hair. "I still can't believe I got up at six to get here," she breathed. Rigsby reached over and patted her shoulder sympathetically. Jane eyed them knowingly.

"We're going to be on the flight all day, basically," Lisbon murmured as Cho, in turn, yawned. "We had to get up early. It's what smart people do."

"Smart people get up when it's still black out?" Rigsby muttered. Van Pelt smiled slightly.

Lisbon rolled her brown eyes. "Believe it or not, yes."

Half an hour later, the whole team was piled into the airplane. Lisbon walked down the aisle, trying not to bump into anyone as she finally fell, exhausted, into her spot. The team had made an effort to try and ride close, so as to not lose anyone, and as she glanced among the colorful rows of quiet, annoying, or snoring passengers, she saw they hadn't done too bad. Van Pelt was sitting next to Rigsby, and Cho was in the rows across from them.

When Lisbon noticed Jane wasn't around, she felt immediately concerned. Like a child, if he wasn't in her sight, she knew something was up.

To her relief, she realized Jane stroll up from behind her, reading his ticket and glancing among the seats to see where he was. As Lisbon sunk into her seat and turned to see where Jane would end up, her heart sank as she watched him point to the seat behind her.

He frowned, then grinned, like a brilliant idea had struck him, and he glanced around before ducking into the seat next to Lisbon, quite calmly.

Lisbon blinked. "What are you doing?"

Jane looked politely puzzled. "What do you mean?"

Lisbon groaned. "Jane, this isn't your seat!"

Jane sighed, like was was speaking to an infant. "Did I not make it clear before that I don't like it when you're alone? I'm sticking to you like glue whether you like it or not."

Lisbon glared at him. "Honestly, Jane, that is someone's seat. That's stealing."

Jane cocked his head. "If it is, then why aren't I swamped with utter remorse and guilt?"

Lisbon sat back and crossed her arms. "Because your a horrible man."

Jane ignored her and instead flashed a ticket before her eyes. "I trades tickets with a very kind gentleman. He seemed pleased to get that seat," Jane motioned to the seat behind Lisbon. "I think he'll realize his loss once we start flying..."

Lisbon growled and felt like biting a pillow.

The plane took off. Clouds and birds flickered by the small window outside Lisbon's cramped seat. Gardens and streets and farm land blurred into a far-away memory as the plane continued to soar powerfully through the air.

She had brought her Ipod, and so she got it out and flicked the ear-buds in. But she noticed Jane had brought nothing to do with himself, and he sat there, gazing, thinking, quietly. He truly baffled Lisbon; he could be the most annoying, bratty, yet charming man she'd ever dream of meeting, and then he could totally flip the coin and become a silent, glooming, thoughtful person. It was almost like he was two people.

Almost.

As Lisbon's songs melted into just one long buzzing noise, she sat back and tried to fall asleep, knowing there was a long day of travel ahead of her.

It was strange, though. Her brother hadn't called her back yet. She had the silver wedding invitation slipped into her purse, yet it was like the only token to this event she had. No other relatives had called her about it, not a breath of excitement from her other two brothers, Tyler and Anthony, who were already married.

Lisbon's thoughts soon drew her into a light sleep, and she awoke when someone was shaking her arm.

"Wake up, sleeping beauty," Jane told her. He was standing over her, people were talking noisily, and the plane seemed to be clearing out. Slowly she realized things felt very still, and then knew they'd landed.

"Are we in New Jersey?" she asked groggily, rubbing at her face and tugging the Ipod buds out of her ears. She tucked it in her purse.

"Yup, and we're going to be the last off the plane if you don't hurry up," Jane said matter-of-factly, chuckling to himself.

Lisbon, feeling embarrassed as she saw her whole team standing around, waiting, as people flowed around them, quickly got up and checked her seat for any other forgotten stuff. Her seat was empty.

"Come on," Cho yawned, stretching and flexing his arms.

They slowly filed off the plane and onto the warm surface of the asphalt, where tons of people were crowding, meeting old friends and family. The team circled into the airport, where things were far less crazy than back in California.

Outside, the sun was a lazy golden as it slowly set. The sky was fiery pink and yellow, and it was hard to think she'd spent one whole day of her life just on an airplane, sleeping. She must have been pretty tired. Her stomach uttered a protesting growl, and it seemed to sharpen her mind as she realized she hadn't eaten anything all day.

They found their bags after some hunting, and got checked out of the airport, where they called two cabs.

As the gleaming yellow cars pulled up and the drivers got out to help load their luggage, Cho, Jane, and Rigsby piled into one as Van Pelt and Lisbon got into the second. Car doors slammed, keys twinkled as engines roared to life, and soon they were cruising down the highway.

"Are we on our way to the hotel rooms?" Van Pelt inquired her boss.

Lisbon had been finishing up a call to Minelli that they'd gotten their safely, as he'd asked her to call, and she stuffed the phone in her pocket. "Well, yeah, I booked two rooms in this one Holiday Inn close to my brother's house. I've got to call him when we get there. But first..." She patted her flat stomach. "I'm starving."

Van Pelt laughed and tossed some loose red hairs from her face. "Me, too."

Lisbon sighed and fell back in her seat, letting out a long breath of air through her lips, like a blowfish. "God. This has been one fast couple of days. It was only a week ago I got that invitation."

"So in how many days is the wedding?" Van Pelt asked, scratching her arm. It clinked and clacked with several silver bracelets piled on her wrists.

"The wedding date is the 28th, so we're got four days," Lisbon replied as she pulled her hair into a ponytail.

Van Pelt frowned.

"What?" Lisbon asked quickly. "Does it look stupid?" She let her hair fall down.

"If I can say anything, miss, I think your hair looked fine," the cab driver spoke up, his rusty accent ringing in Lisbon's ears.

Lisbon and Van Pelt glanced at him until the driver looked away, embarrassed.

"No," Van Pelt answered when they recovered. "Not your hair, just... it's really weird, you know? Usually they give notifications that there will be a wedding months ahead. This feels to hasty and, well, rushed..."

"I know," Lisbon sighed. "But I'm just... not all that close to my brothers any more. I guess it's not too surprising I just learned that he's getting married."

Van Pelt bit her lip thoughtfully. "Why aren't you close to them anymore?"

Lisbon blinked and found herself unable to really answer that one.

Suddenly her phone rang, and she jumped. Muttering to herself, Lisbon grabbed the cell from her purse and flipped it open. "What?" she growled.

"Ah, Lisbon," came the silky-smooth voice of Patrick Jane. "I insist we pull into some rest area very soon."

Van Pelt's brows stitched together. She could hear Jane perfectly from the cellphone. "What do you mean?" Lisbon asked sharply. "No funny business, Jane, I'm not in the mood to be bothered."

There were weird noises from Jane's end of the line, and he finally replied, "Oh, I wouldn't have bothered you, except our situation just turned brutal. See- ah, how to put it?" he pondered.

"Jane!" Lisbon snapped.

"Alright, well, Rigsby's gotten car-sick, and he's about to- oh dear. Just turn around," Jane said before hanging up.

"Wha- sick?" Lisbon flew around and stared out the back window of their cab. Behind them, in the cab that held the three boys, Jane was frantically waving to her in the front seat, and the cab driver looked sick to his stomach.  
Lisbon would have laughed had it not been so gross.

"Driver, pull over, we've got a situation," she said.

"What's wrong with Rigsby?" Van Pelt asked swiftly, concerned.

Both cabs pulled over to the side of the road, and blurs of cars swept past. "Let's just say that cab's gonna need refurbishing," Lisbon muttered as she crawled out.

* * *

**Well, they're almost to their destination. Poor Rigsby, I hope he feels better.**

So I'm not sure if this is worth mentioning, but there were 100+ readers to the first chapter, and barely anyone bothered to review. I'm begging you from the bottom of my heart, it seems silly but it makes authors feel so much better when we know what the readers think: review! I thank the few who were kind enough to do so, and I'm talking to you- yes, you, staring at the computer screen right now- that it's not hard to review. You just click the green button, and it'll boost my self-esteem, don't worry. So you- you, right now, finishing up this author's note and has no plans to review- well, I hope you have a change of heart. :)

Good, now that's over with. I hope someone tells me they want the next chapter; at this point I dunno if I want to continue with it.... 


	3. Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital

**Hello my friends, sorry that this note is so sort, but the bus is coming. yet I had to update for you all. But first, I'm sorry for sounding so childish when begging for reviews last time- that was very silly of me, and I hope you all can forgive me and enjoy the third chapter in this story. Thanks so much for reading!  


* * *

Chapter Three: Princeton- Plainsboro Teaching Hospital**

"Poor Rigsby," Van Pelt murmured.

"Poor _him_? Poor me! My poor cab!" the eccentric cab driver exclaimed, pointing to his cab, now stinky of, well, Rigsby's breakfast.

"I'll give you a tip to get it cleaned," Lisbon sighed.

Fifteen minutes after they'd pulled over, the team was standing around, waiting, while Rigsby cleaned himself up. He'd puked over the silver railing that lined the road, and now some poor grass would never grow in that spot again. But at least he looked better after cleaning his mouth out.

"I feel loads better," he finally said, approaching them.

"I'm sure you do," the cab driver said reproachfully.

Rigsby went red and began to apologize when the second cab driver walked over and said, "Well, what are we gonna do now?"

Lisbon crossed her arms. Already she regretted bringing the team. "I can call my brother, his house isn't far from that exit." She pointed to a point not far ahead where the gray road split off into the town. That was where their Holiday Inn was located.

"You do that, lady," the cab driver who'd gotten his cab all messed up told her.

Cho was standing a ways off, looking like he practically had I DO NOT KNOW THESE PEOPLE stamped across his forehead. Jane was standing near him, but looking more amused than humiliated.

"It's just like bringing kids on a car-trip, Lisbon," he remarked as she walked by, dialing her brother's number.

"Shut up," she growled as she put the silver cell to her ear and the phone began to ring.

Once again, it didn't pick up.

"Dammit!" Lisbon snapped. Why would he never pick up when she called?

"I could walk into town," Jane offered. "Find someone to help us out here."

"That might help," Lisbon admitted. Van Pelt walked over; Rigsby wasn't far behind.

"I'm really sorry, boss," he said sheepishly.

"Really?" Cho asked sharply. He had his sunglasses on, though he didn't need them, and his arms folded. "I think you should apologize to me first, since I almost got Rigsby inners on my lap."

Jane coughed a laugh. Van Pelt exchanged a small smile with him.

"Sorry," Rigsby sighed.

"Right then," Jane said brightly, walking by them. "I'll go into town and find somebody."

"But it's getting dark, is that really safe?" Van Pelt asked quickly.

Lisbon and Cho looked over at Jane, apparently feeling the same way. Rigsby just leaned against the second cab, staring at his lap like an offended child.

"Aw, come on, you don't really think anyone could beat this up?" Jane asked, pointing to his face. It was growing darker; shadows were beginning to paint themselves across the ground, and car's headlights glowed like cat's eyes as they drove by.

"Yes," Lisbon, Van Pelt, and Cho said at once, in unison.

Jane just laughed. "Call me every five minutes if you're truly concerned," he called over his shoulder as the blondie began walking up the exit ramp, careful of the cars. He grew smaller and smaller until he turned the corner with the cars, and was gone.

"Why do I have a bad feeling about this?" Lisbon muttered to no one in particular as the cab drivers began cleaning out the sicked-on car.

Sighing, everyone fell back and just hung around, leaning against the cab. They offered the drivers help, but they stubbornly refused.

At last, Lisbon decided to try and call her brother again, and she walked away from the others to try and get some peace and quiet. It rang once... twice... three times... and then to her surprise, it picked up.

"Hello?"

Lisbon was surprised to hear a woman's voice. "I- hello, is this Molly?"

She could almost hear the woman's frown through the phone. "Um, yes. Who is this?"

Lisbon took a deep breath. "I'm Teresa Lisbon, William's sister. Is he home?"

Molly was quiet for a second until she suddenly exclaimed in recognition. "_Oh_- Teresa, yes, now I remember Willy talking about you. Uh, hold on- William! Your sister's on the phone!" she called.

Lisbon chewed her lip nervously, and shook her hand anxiously by her hip. It had been awhile since she'd spoken to William. What would she say?

But she focused on the phone as she heard a deeper voice near the speaker. "What? You mean Teresa?" The phone was instantly nearer to his voice. "Teresa? Teresa Lisbon, is that you?"

Teresa swallowed hard. "Hey, big brother," she said weakly.

"Teresa! God, why haven't you called? I've been meaning to call you, you left the weirdest message- honestly, after all these years, I expected something less far-fetched..."

"What do you mean? What mess- wait, the one about your wedding? Oh, yeah! Will, I'm so happy for you, I'm sure Molly will be-"

"Teresa, what are you talking about?" William cut across her.

Lisbon blinked. "What- what do you mean? The wedding in four days between... you and Molly, I got an invitation for it..." Her voice trailed off as her mind began to spin. What was going on? Things were happening so fast...

"Sissy," William said slowly. Teresa smiled slightly at his old nickname for her. "Molly and I are just dating, we're not planning to get married..."

Lisbon felt bile rise in her throat. "But- but I know I got an invitation. What do you mean no wedding? If there's no wedding, why'd I get an invitation? I just flew across the bloody United States to attend your wedding-"

"You're in New Jersey? Teresa, this makes no sense. Why didn't you call me?"

"I tried, but you didn't pick up, I just assumed..." Teresa swallowed hard. She was frightened, and she didn't know why. If her brother had no wedding and hadn't sent the invitation, then who had? And why? Had someone  
wanted her to go to New Jersey...?

Suddenly, her phone was beeping. A call on the other line.

"Crap, Will, I'll be right back, I've got a call coming in, don't move a muscle!" she ordered him, then pressed a button. "Hello?" she asked on the other line.

There was no answer. Her heart-beat quickened as she heard a ragged, frightened breathing...

"Hello?" she whispered slowly.

A voice. Someone was trying to talk.

"Lisbon..."

Her eyes flashed. "Who is this?" she demanded, quickly walking back to her awaiting team. What the heck was going on here?

The speaker seemed to shiver as he tried to speak. "Lisbon... I'm injured..."

Her blood turned cold. _Jane?_

"Jane? Patrick Jane? What's wrong?"

There came no answer for a long moment. Lisbon's heart beat noisily, her hold on her cell grew sweaty. "Help... Lisbon, I... I shouldn't have gone off... alone..."

It tore at her heart to hear her cocky Jane so broken, so empty. She almost wished it was a joke, a frightening joke-

"Jane! Just- just hold on, tell me where you are-"

"Jane? What's going on?" Van Pelt hissed.

"Something's wrong?" Cho asked quickly.

"Quickly..." Jane's throaty, weak voice spoke.

"_Jane!_" Lisbon cried into the phone.

* * *

The first thing Jane felt was pain. All over his body, scrapes and burns.

He slowly fluttered his eyes open, painfully bright lights all around him. Things slowly came into focus, and he blinked carefully, taking a deep breath.

He winced and groaned.

He was in some kind of room... it was silent, and strangely peaceful, but like the peace after a bloody war. There were windows on one wall, where all the light was coming from. The other walls were blank and dark, stained by shadow and reeking of death.

Nothing but a small bed-table was next to the stiff bed. A TV hung from across him, but was mute. Images of breaking news and top headlines flitted across the dull screen.

There was a steady beeping. He tried to look over, and flinched. Monitors... machines... tubes...  
Hospital.

Jane slowly, painfully sat up, eyes narrowed, as he looked around and took a deep breath, trying to clear his head. "Hello?" he called out, voice brittle.

There was a pause, then footsteps that grew closer. They were quick and light. Jane guessed a young woman, tall, thin but strong, blond...

A woman walked into his room, cloaked in a plain white scrub and a clipboard in hand.

"Brunette," Jane realized, smiling to himself.

"Good morning," the woman said quietly. "How are you feeling, Mr. Jane?"

Mr. Jane. He wasn't used to that title. He didn't like it. It brought back memories of a rolling movie camera, of flashing light bulbs, of interviews...

"Call me Patrick," he corrected her weakly.

"Patrick," the woman said, shrugging and nodding. "I'm your nurse, Karla Sheppard. Welcome to Princeton- Plainsboro Teaching Hospital."

Jane watched her carefully as he half-heartedly chuckled. "I'm not sure if welcome is the best way to put it, but alright."

Karla began to reply when suddenly there were hushed whispers, and Lisbon appeared in the doorway. Her eyes widened to see him awake. "Jane!" she gasped, and ran over to his bed. Van Pelt, Rigsby, and Cho followed  
her, all circling around his bed and pressuring him with many "How are you feeling?"s and "I'm so relieved you're awake!"s.

Van Pelt gave him a hug and stepped back. Lisbon stared at Jane's face. "Do you- do you remember anything, Jane?"

Jane closed his eyes and took a breath. Blurred images... shadowy night, walking past glowing businesses... cars zooming past... a closed building, a quiet, lithe figure springing from the shadows. Something hard beaten upon his face, his chest, his back... salty blood, feeling stupid and helpless...

"Jane."

He sharply opened his eyes, and flew back to the present.

Their expectant faces gazed anxiously at him.

"I remember some things," he answered. Karla frowned anxiously.

"Do you remember any details of the attacker?" Rigsby asked softly.

Jane sighed. "No, he hid himself well, a stranger. I called you, Lisbon..."

"Thank god you had the strength to, or else I- we might have not found you until it was too late," Lisbon replied, biting her lip.

"We tracked your call's location and rushed you to the nearest hospital. Here," Cho explained quietly.

"Some trip this turned into, huh?" he chuckled darkly.

Lisbon exchanged a look with Karla. "Can we have a moment alone, please?"

Karla nodded graciously. "Of course, just call me if he needs anything," she told them before leaving the quiet room.

When she was gone, Lisbon glanced uneasily at Van Pelt, then back at Jane. "Jane," she said, swallowing hard. "It's worse than you think."

Jane blinked and folded his hands. "By all means, continue," he said dryly.

Lisbon thought a second. "Well... it turns out, William- you know, my brother- well, there's... no wedding. He never sent an invitation. We came here literally for nothing."

"So someone else sent it," Rigsby put in.

"And it's no practical joke," Cho added.

Van Pelt glanced at them before looking over at Jane. "We think this was a set-up."

Jane looked skeptical, so Lisbon went on. "Think, Jane. We arrive, no wedding, and you go off and get attacked. You could have been beaten to death, Jane. The attacker must have left you for dead."

Jane squinted. "I must look like crap, then," he remarked.

Everyone exhaled impatiently. He didn't get it.

"You don't look like crap," Lisbon said kindly. "But... well, here. Van Pelt?"

The redhead offered the small mirror from her purse, and tossed it to Lisbon, who gave it to Jane. He clicked the little mirror open and gazed at himself.

It was strange to look at himself. He didn't care much for mirrors these days. He used to care so much about his appearance; when he strode onto his show, when he gave interviews. But some things can kill sins; even  
vanity. The murders of his family had done that to him.

And so, for the first time in days, he gazed at himself long and hard in Van Pelt's little mirror.

He was bruised and scabbed, and looked older and more tired than he thought he could ever look.

"But you know," Jane said as he handed the mirror back to Van Pelt. "For being a guy nearly beat to death, I look pretty handsome." He was joking, of course. He didn't care much about reflections. He'd learned long ago that  
mirrors can't reflect what's really going on.

Lisbon and Van Pelt laughed and shook their heads.

"It's good to see you awake, though," Rigsby said honestly. "We were worried that- you know-"

"Don't," Jane replied flatly. "Don't waste your worrying on me."

He blinked, the nodded.

"Now," Lisbon said, taking control of the situation. "We told the police, and- well, we're going to see what we can do to help them. We're going to find this person, Jane."

Jane shrugged. "That's what they always say."

Quietly, sensing she needed a moment alone with Jane, the others filed out, and soon Lisbon and Jane were left alone in the room.

For a long moment, they said nothing, just thinking. Lisbon finally broke the quiet silence.

"I didn't tell the others this, but I really thought we'd lost you, Jane." She spoke softly, staring at her hands. "When we found your crumpled, beat-up body..." She stopped and took a breath. "I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

Jane scoffed. "What?"

"I should have never let you go off alone. I should have had Cho or someone go with you."

Jane just shook his head at her. "I can travel alone, Lisbon," he said, echoing Lisbon's words days previous. "I'm not a child."

"But the first moment I let you out of my sight, you get attacked!" Lisbon exclaimed. "I just... I feel like I- like this team couldn't live without you. You've become a part of it."

Jane's eyes were cloudy as he smiled slightly. "Thank you," he said quietly. "That means a lot to me."

Lisbon sighed and put her head in her hands. She looked up and shook her head. "I don't care what you say, Jane," she told him firmly. "But I won't let you get hurt again."

Jane gazed shrewdly at her. "You can't prevent everything, Lisbon."

She just stared back at Jane, eyes swirling. "I can try."

* * *

**Wow. So why attacked Jane? And why? And why was the invitation a fake? Is someone deliberately trying to pry the CBI team away from California, plotting for something... even bigger?**

Haha, check in on Saturday to find out more. Thanks for reading, I hope you like- I love this story so far, really. Reviews are welcomed, but I'm just glad you decided to read my update. peace~~

-Sarafina


	4. Who Would Want to hurt Me?

**Hello! Glad to have you back, readers and reviewers. I'm liking how this story's going so far, maybe some of our questions will be answered soon... =)**

And don't you House-fans worry... he's closer than u think 3

Disclaimer: House and Mentalist don't belong to me!!

* * *

Chapter Four: Who Would Want to hurt Me? 

"Do you remember if the attacker was a man or woman?"

Patrick Jane blinked and thought a moment. "Well, the attacker had cloaked themselves in a lot of clothes, to make themselves as shadowy as possible, but their steps were light and quick, and their breathing soft. I think it was a woman."

A tall, deep-chested man with graying black hair and old cuts on his hands nodded and scribbled something down in his notebook. He'd nodded so many times so far, Jane wondered if his head would nod off and roll away.  
"Do you think they were black or white, or another race?"

"Green," Jane answered.

The police officer sighed.

"White, probably," Jane said again.

The police officer nodded. "Age, height, weight? Recall any of those?"

Jane closed his eyes, scrambling back to that evening, bathed in blood and shadow. "I just saw the attacker quickly, from the corner of my eye, when they jumped... but I think they were tall and slender, and age...?"

He stopped. "Eighty? No. Ten? No. Hmm... I can't quite recollect..."

The officer stopped and looked tired. "Sir, I'm trying to help you..."

"Then why so many questions?" Jane demanded.

The officer sighed again. "It's my job, sir, we have to collect as much information as possible, sir-"

"Stop calling me that."

"What?"

"Sir."

"Yes?"

"_Sir_. Stop calling me _sir_. And I'm done here," Jane said matter-of-factly, waving the officer away.

"Jane!" Lisbon said sharply, sweeping into the room. "What are you doing?"

"I'm wrapping up an interview," Jane replied.

"Looks to me more like you're crashing one," she told him coldly. She turned to the police officer. "I am so sorry, he can be a real, well, jerk, when he wants to."

The officer tipped his hat to her. "Don't mind it, miss, we get those all the time."

"Hey!" Jane exclaimed.

"Night," the older man mumbled as he excused himself from the hospital room.

Lisbon stared after him before turning on Jane, eyes gleaming.

"Spare me," he said sardonically.

"What is wrong with you? That man is just doing his job, and you're being a perfect ass towards him."

"He asks too many questions."

"But he has to!"

"If I want to tell anyone about that night, I'll do it on my own accord, not to some stranger in a police uniform," Jane told her flatly.

Lisbon groaned. "You're hopeless, you know that?"

Jane smiled, the first time in hours. "All too well."

Lisbon stared at him until she sighed and broke a smile, going over to sit on the edge of his hospital bed. The dusk light flooded gently into the room, washing everything in a hazy glow.

It was the day after Jane had been admitted into Princeton- Plainsboro. It had been full of nurses, medicine, questions, interviews, and tests. Though Jane was still pretty beat up, he insisted he was fine, and wanted to leave.

For some reason, he didn't appear to care all that much about the fact he had been attacked. He didn't seem to want to pursue the investigation, and he certainly didn't think it was linked to the strange wedding invitation from no one.

"You doing alright?" Lisbon asked quietly.

Jane frowned at her. "What kind of question is that?"

Lisbon shrugged. "I dunno. I guess it's just weird to find my old, cocky, annoying blondie here in a hospital bed."

Jane seemed complimented by her insults. He knew she didn't mean them completely. "It's not like it's the first time. Remember when I was temperamentally blind?"

Lisbon smiled at the memory. "Yes, you little jerk, you let that truck explode in your face."

It was Jane's turn to shrug. "I have a tendency to wind up hurt."

Lisbon sighed deeply. "Yeah." She paused, and a long moment of silence danced around them in the swirling darkness. "I'm not sure if you care or not, but the police have started an investigation. They want to find whoever did this to you."

Jane's attention had been claimed by the TV. "I know that, but the real question is, who would want to hurt me?"

Lisbon chuckled darkly. "No one, because no one could possibly want to hurt _you_, Patrick Jane," she said sarcastically. When Lisbon got no reply from the blondie, she cleared her throat and knew it was time to leave. "Well...  
I'd better go back to Holiday Inn. Van Pelt and the others and I are having dinner." She got up slowly and looked a little rueful. "It's too quiet without you around to bug us, you know."

Jane smirked. "Once this is all behind us, you'll wish you'd treasured those moments more."

Lisbon laughed and shook her head and began walking out. "Night, Jane."

"Night."

As she walked out, Lisbon passed Karla, who had a tray of dull hospital food, probably meant to be Jane's dinner. She smiled when she thought of how Jane would have a fit and refuse the boring food.

Her heart gave a pang as she knew she faced a whole new night without Jane.

Sighing, Lisbon continued to walk. Nurses and patients passed by her like traffic, and suddenly Lisbon crashed into a man limping with a cane.

"Oh- I'm so sorry!" Lisbon said quickly when they recovered from nearly knocking each other down.

The man had piercing blue eyes and a shaggy appearance. He glared at her. "Didn't your mom ever teach you to not try and kill old people by knocking them over?"

Lisbon was taken aback. "I- I'm sorry,"

"You should be," the man exclaimed as he started limping away.

* * *

Later that night, Lisbon was sitting around a table. Many other crisp, white-clothed tables surrounded them, decorated with candles and forks and spoons and table-knives, and people, of course, occupying most of them. Talking, forks clinking together, and red wine being poured into glass goblets made the air colorful except for one table.

Lisbon's table.

Only she and Cho sat around the small, circular table. There were five chairs; naturally, two were occupied, and one was vacant from Jane, but the last two seats should have been filled.

"Where's Van Pelt and Rigsby?" Lisbon asked finally, voice scathing.

Cho had been sitting there silently, arms crossed, watching people. "I've no idea," he said curtly. "Investigating? Sleeping? Reading?"

"But they're both gone," Lisbon pointed out. "If _you_ and Van Pelt were gone, or Rigsby and _I_ were gone, it would be different."

Cho shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Not necessarily."

"Yes, _necessarily_," Lisbon sighed, shaking her head and giving up. She lifted her glass of ice-water to her lips and tilted it back. The water was cold and tasteless. Knowing that, after the recent events, she needed something  
more strong, Lisbon glanced around and spotted a waiter. "Could you bring something with alcohol?"

Cho watched his boss carefully. "You doing alright?"

Lisbon knew these were the same words she'd expressed to Jane just hours earlier. "Yeah ," she replied, not sure if that was a lie or not.

Cho rubbed a hand through his jet-black hair. "Have you called your brother again ever since the cab thing?"

Lisbon bit her lip. "No."

Cho sighed as a waiter came over and poured dark red wine into a glass for Lisbon. "Thanks," she breathed to the young man as he nodded and left.

"You should meet with him," Cho said blankly.

Lisbon scoffed. "And do what?"

Cho stared at her. "Normally, when people meet, they talk."

Lisbon rolled her eyes. "Yes, I guess that, Cho, but talk about what? It's been so long, we have nothing in common any more."

Cho put his arms on the table and clasped his hands. He looked like an emotional coach about to dish out a priceless piece of advice. "Puppies. TV shows. Celebrity hook-ups. Anything. Just connect with him again, trust me.  
You'll thank me when you're older."

Lisbon laughed humorlessly as she took a sip of wine, then a gulp. "Maybe."

Right then Lisbon's cell rang, and she quickly got it out of her pocket and flipped it open. "Hello?"

"Boss!" She recognized Rigsby's voice. "I'm so sorry we're- _I'm_ late, I was swimming in the pool to kill some time and didn't have my watch..."

Lisbon sighed as she gazed at a couple that appeared to be arguing. "I didn't know you brought your trunks."

Rigsby didn't falter. "I know, I always bring them, just in case." He sounded serious.

Chuckling to herself, Lisbon shot back, "So are you coming to dinner?"

"Dinner? I doubt it, boss, I'm soaking wet and stuff."

"That's why God created towels," Lisbon said sarcastically. "Look, I'll just see you in the morning. Rigsby, where's Van Pelt?"

She could tell Rigsby shrugged, even though there was no one there to see him do it. "I dunno. She's not at dinner?"

Lisbon eyed one of the empty seats. "Nope."

"Weird. I'll call her, see what she's up to..."

"I'll manage that part, you get dried off. Good night, Rigsby."

"Night."

The call ended and Lisbon snapped her phone shut. She was quiet for a moment, pondering.

"So?" Cho prompted.

"He was swimming," Lisbon said.

"I didn't know he brought his trunks," Cho remarked.

Lisbon dialed Van Pelt's number, but it rolled to voice-mail. At last, Lisbon gave up and put the phone away, getting up from the table. "Looks like this party's crashed."

"Apparently. What's the plan for tomorrow?"

Lisbon stretched as she slipped her black jacket on. Behind them, a baby was crying. She was eager to get away from all this noise and retire to her room. She was sharing a room with Van Pelt, and Cho was sharing a room  
with Rigsby.

"No idea," she replied.  


* * *

  
**Haha, so did our two universes just collide for a second? Did Lisbon nearly knocked over our favorite grumpy doctor? :3**

Thanks for reading, remember to review, I want to see who wants the next chappy. See ya on the next update...

~Sarafina 3


	5. The Confrontation of House

**Hey guys! Glad to be back, thank you for all the support, you all are amazing. Hope you enjoy this chapter, we finally get to meet old House... all you reviewers who asked about him, well, this chappy is dedicated to u. :3**

**Disclaimer: Nuthing is mine!! lol**

* * *

**Chapter Five: The Confrontation of House**

As it turned out, Lisbon's room wouldn't be as quiet as she might have hoped. Apparently, Van Pelt had brought her swimsuit as well, and when she finally got back, she took a shower to clean the chlorine from her hair and then she had to dry her hair.

Then the TV was on, and the cellphones rang more than once before Lisbon finally drifted off to sleep.

At last, she found herself blinking awake to bright November sunlight blooming into her hotel room. Van Pelt was still asleep on the other bed, and a glance at the glowing red numbers on the digital clock between their hotel beds declared the time to be eight thirty in the morning.

Lisbon was startled and sat up quickly. She hadn't slept in that late for awhile; she was used to the usual six-thirty, when she went into work. She hadn't even realized it was that late. Wow. She must've been tired last night.

So she slowly put her clothes together and brushed her chocolate-brown hair, and called Minelli. He and Bosco already knew about Jane's attack, and they'd- well, Minelli, anyways- had wanted to be kept updated.

But then something weird happened.

After Lisbon had gone down to the morning meal and got her and Van Pelt some blueberry muffins and coffee for breakfast, her cell was ringing, and when she answered it, she half-expected it to be Jane.

But it wasn't. It was William.

"Hey, sissy," he greeted her.

Lisbon was startled and nearly choked on her coffee. "William?" She swallowed. "Hey, good morning. Uh, what's up?"

Her brother sounded more awake and content than he had the other night, when she'd first called him. "Not much, just wondering what you're doing today. Because since you're in town, I think you need to visit. We should have lunch, catch up."

Lisbon sighed and smiled weakly. "We both know an hour's lunch won't catch up eleven years of silence, Will."

"Then maybe a two hour's lunch will. What do you say?"

Lisbon hesitated. She honestly wasn't sure what she was going to do for the next couple days with Jane in the hospital and the New Jersey police doing the investigation. For once in her busy life, Teresa Lisbon didn't have an exact plan for the day. And this kinda threw her off.

"Oh, uh, sure, yes, I'd like that, Will."

"Great. Should I come pick you up from your hotel?"

Lisbon blinked. Ah, yes, that made sense. "Yeah, course. I'm in a Holiday Inn, on Redchest Street..."

"I know the one. I'll be there at twelve thirty, deal? Be in the lobby. We're going to Bob Evans."

Lisbon laughed. She hadn't gone to that place in years. "It's a deal, Will. Twelve thirty."

"Done. See you then, Teresa."

"Bye."

They hung up, and Lisbon stood there for a moment, thoughtful.

"Who was that?" Van Pelt inquired from the bed as she sipped her coffee and watched the morning news.

"My brother- you know, William. He wants to have lunch at Bob Evans... to reconnect."

A smile broke across Van Pelt's face like the sunlight breaking through clouds on a gloomy day. "That's great, just like you wanted!"

"Well, I never-"

There came a swift knock at the door. Lisbon growled, "The craziness never stops, does it?" and unlocked it. There was a protesting voice behind it, almost like arguing, or maybe begging...

As the door flew open, Lisbon was baffled to see Cho and Rigsby standing their, Rigsby looking frightening and annoyed, on his knees and seeming to be begging Cho about something, and Cho standing stiffly above him, holding a pair of skimpy zebra-striped underwear. But as fast as Lisbon had seen it, it was gone, stuffed behind Cho's back.

"Boss," Cho said quickly. "I thought you were Van Pelt-"

"What is that you were just holding?" Lisbon asked, voice scorching.

Rigsby looked hopeless as he slowly stood up and hung his head in defeat. Cho hesitated a long second before slowly bringing the offensive object back into the open.

"Why are you holding lady's underwear, Cho?" Lisbon asked crisply. Van Pelt had quickly gotten up and was standing behind her boss, a look of horror slowly crossing her face.

Cho cleared his throat, and for the first time ever, Lisbon saw him look deeply embarrassed. "I'm sorry to disturb you, boss, it's just- I just found this in our room, and- well, I believe it's hers... so I was about to give it back and see what's up."

Lisbon took the underwear from Cho and slowly turned around to face Van Pelt. She tossed the underwear at the red-headed girl, who threw it on the bed like it was too hot to touch, and then clasped her hands behind her back, looking mortified.

"Why was your underwear in Rigsby's and Cho's room?" Lisbon asked very calmly, yet it felt like she'd screamed. Rigsby and Cho just stood out in the hall, feeling ridiculous and stupid, but none of that even began to match the humiliation flaming in Van Pelt's heart. Her cheeks flushed and her palms grew clammy.

"Boss, I can explain," she said quickly.

"I bet you can," Lisbon growled.

At once, perhaps in an action that saved Van Pelt's life, Lisbon's phone once again rang. She was getting sick of it interrupting conversations, and had half a mind to toss it against the wall. But she saw the call was from Karla Sheppard, and she flipped the cell open.

"Teresa Lisbon."

"Hello, it's Karla, Jane's nurse? I need you and his other friends to come to the hospital; his files have been transferred to another doctor, who is very advanced and can help Jane. You and the others have been asked to  
come meet him."

"Oh, alright, fine, we'll be there in ten minutes. Thanks." She snapped the phone shut. "Jane's case has gotten switched to a more capable doctor, and they want us to meet this guy. Come on, we're calling a cab." As Lisbon grabbed the room key and shut the TV off, she passed by Van Pelt and murmured in her ear, "This isn't over."

* * *

"Hey," Jane greeted his team as they all walked into the little hospital room. Lisbon was happy to see the blondie again; it felt like ages since last night.

Van Pelt and Rigsby were quiet, and Cho was the only one who replied. "To say _good_ morning would be a lie," he said shortly. Karla, who was standing next to Jane's bed, smiled wryly.

Jane smiled crookedly. "I like you."

Suddenly, there was a quiet thudding of a cane followed by dragging footsteps. The first thing Lisbon saw was a gray shadow flit across the door, and then a tall, limping, shaggy man with piercing blue eyes strode into the room.

He stopped when he saw Lisbon.

"You!" he gasped dramatically.

Lisbon said nothing, just stared with wide eyes. Everyone else watched, baffled; well, except for Karla, who clearly was already acquainted with this man.

"That awkward silence was where you were supposed to gasp, "_You_!" and we'd have a melodramatic face-off, but clearly you don't watch the classics," the man jeered, shaking his head as he limped towards Karla.

"You two... have met?" Cho asked uncertainly.

"You _bet_. This wild woman nearly ran over me last night in her hurry to get away from this place!" the older man loudly accused Lisbon, sticking his cane towards Lisbon's startled face.

Everyone was quiet for a moment.

"Who _are_ you?" Rigsby asked incredulously.

The man just smirked. Lisbon was taken aback by how much similarity there was between Jane's crooked smile and this man's devilish grin.

"Meet Dr. Gregory House," Karla introduced.

* * *

**Haha, I'm having a great time writing this, House is such an amazing character to play with. Thank god someone made fanfiction where we CAN mess with them :) Thanks for reading, reviews very welcome!! I hope you want to see the next chappy... things are just getting started... :P  
**


	6. Alone Time

**Hey there, everybody. It feels great to be back :) I know I didn't update Saturday, but I decided updating every Saturday _and _Wednesday gives away too much in one week ;P So I'll simply upload once a week from now on. All clear? Cool (: Now, thanks to everyone who read&reviewed last chapter, you guys are amazing! I can only hope I'll please you as much with this chapter, where the first meeting of House and Jane continues. Enjoy!!**

Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me, tragically...

* * *

Chapter Six: Alone Time

There was a silence.

"Thank you for just crushing my self-esteem by offering no applause. Now," Dr. House said dryly, turning to Jane. "What do they call you, blondie?"

"Jane. Patrick Jane."

"Not every day you meet a man with a woman's name," House remarked, snapping a manila folder opening in his wrinkled hands. "Now, it says here you were attacked, you don't know who, you don't know why, and you're a tourist." House nodded. "That just about sums this up."

"It was my fault, Dr. House, I sent him off to find help-" Lisbon started.

"After this guy nearly puked in my lap," Cho growled, pointing to Rigsby.

"-and he called me, almost dead, saying he needed help," Lisbon finished, ignoring her team.

House glanced between the three of them before noticing Van Pelt. "Hey, blondie, is this your hooker?"

Rigsby bristled, and Van Pelt looked taken aback. "No, I work for the CBI. I'm a part of this team."

House twitched his nose. "Pity. Waste of a hot woman. Anyways," he continued, turning to Jane. "Right, the reason I'm here. You. Okay, blondie, tell me where it hurts."

Jane gazed at House like he was reading a book. For sure, Gregory House was by far the most complicated, interesting man he'd ever come across. "Ah, hurts. Well, it hurts where I was punched, and beaten."

"You've got a firm grasp of the obvious," House said coldly. "Do they know what you were punched and beaten with? A chunk of wood with rusty nails? A hammer? A garbage can lid? Always thought those things looked harmful."

Jane chuckled. "Uh, no, actually, they're not sure. Whatever it was, however, they said was blunt, and it wasn't the sharpness that hurt me, but how hard my attacker beat me with it."

"Yes, in other words, they didn't want to hurt your pretty face, just smash you unconscious for some reason," House retorted. He thought a moment, then tossed Karla the folder and snapped on some white rubber gloves.

"Team, hooker, Karla- you can all leave. Blondie and I need some alone time."

Jane smiled brightly. He waved to Lisbon and the others. "I'll be fine. I can manage this guy."

"You sure?" Cho asked seriously. He didn't like House all that much.

Jane laughed. "No."

* * *

The sun was high in the crisp November sky, like a golden flower blossoming across the endless horizon. Birds flitted through the cloudless blue like little dots, and leaves fell gently from the trees all around Van Pelt and Rigsby.

"I've never been to New Jersey before," she said thoughtfully as they crossed a street. A girl walking several yapping dogs crossed by them.

Rigsby glanced at Van Pelt. "Really?" he murmured. "I came here before, once, with my parents for a vacation. It was pretty boring though, now that I look back on it."

Van Pelt laughed, tugging her scarf closer around her neck. It would be December pretty soon. But hopefully by then, they could be heading back to California, where they didn't have to really deal with a cold wind.

"It's a pretty place though, isn't it?" Van Pelt murmured.

Rigsby smiled as he gazed at her. "Yeah. Very pretty."

Van Pelt caught him looking at her, and her red hair bounced as she playfully hit him. "Not now, loser," she laughed.

Rigsby laughed. "Well why not?"

Van Pelt laughed and they walked along the sidewalk.

It was hours after they'd first met House. Everyone had gone their separate ways: Cho went up to see if he could help the police with the investigation, while Lisbon went to the hotel lobby to wait for her brother, and Van Pelt and Rigsby were left with some alone time.

They were quiet for awhile. Rigsby finally knew he had to break the silence, and bring up the dreaded conversation.

"So... has Lisbon brought up the... you know, underwear thing yet?" he asked tentatively.

He was startled by how fast the happiness drained from Van Pelt's face. She stared at him, suddenly hasty and unhappy. "Not yet," she murmured in reply.

Rigsby tugged at his jacket collar, suddenly feeling like it was too tight. "Look, I'm really sorry about that, Cho was on my side of the room and I begged him not to..."

"Wayne, if Lisbon finds out about... well, _us_, and what really happened while we were _swimming_ last night," Van Pelt said severely, "we're in so much trouble."

"It's not right. _Why_ do we have to hide this, Grace?" Rigsby stopped and grasped Van Pelt's hands, standing in front of her and gazing deep into her eyes. "What we have is beautiful, and something only one in a million truly  
have. Why do we have to pretend it's not there? I love you," Rigsby said, so passionate and honest that it squeezed Van Pelt's heart.

She gazed at him, red hair billowing gently, eyes sparkling with what might have been tears. "I love you too, Wayne," she murmured. "But we can't act like she'll always give us the blind eye because she cares for us.

Because she's not our mom, she's our _boss_."

Rigsby sighed, and kissed Van Pelt's fingers. "We'll figure this out, Grace," he told her. "I promise."

Grace reached up to the tall man and stroked his hair. "I know we will," she said softly, soothingly. Slowly, the fire died from Rigsby's eyes, and be took a step back from her, nodding. They slowly began to walk away, hands  
brushing but not quite holding.

As their feet strolled along the rough sidewalk, it curved them past a certain Bob Evans, where, unknowingly, they were walking past their boss.

Through the darkened windows with a blast of welcome warm air, past rows of talkative people eating their lunch, over clinking forks and rustling newspapers, sat a dark-haired woman and a man with bristly,  
chocolate-brown hair.

"So you're not married," the man was confirming.

Teresa Lisbon laughed, shaking her dark hair. "Nope."

Her brother chuckled. "Well, do you ever plan to marry?"

Lisbon paused, and glanced at the table. She wondered how Jane was doing. "Eventually, when I find the right man. Maybe."

William Lisbon gazed at her through bright brown eyes. Lisbon had almost forgotten how handsome her brother was; his chiseled face had grown a goatee, and maybe his brown hair was not quite as thick as eleven years ago, but he still had that charm, that somehow reminded Lisbon of Jane.

"What about you?" Lisbon said quickly, turning around the conversation. She hated it when it stayed on her for too long. "Do you want to get married eventually?"

William laughed. "I might."

"Molly?"

"We've been dating for a year now, it's... possible, I suppose."

Lisbon smiled slightly as a tall guy with a little name-card revealing his name to be Mark scrambled up to their table, gently laying down plates of their lunch.

"Chicken salad?" Mark inquired.

"Me," Lisbon directed, getting out her napkin and smiling in thanks.

"And grilled cheese with extra fries?" Mark asked, grinning, as he handed it to William.

"That's me all the way," William chuckled.

"Call me if there are any problems... any at all," Mark added, looking at Lisbon.

She blinked uneasily, then cleared her throat. "We're great, thanks."

Mark nodded and trotted away.

William laughed as he glanced back at Mark.

"What?" Lisbon exclaimed.

"That," William said, jabbing a thumb to where Mark was currently helping another table, "is why you should get married. I'm sure you're hit on all the time, my pretty little sister, why can't you wake up and smell the burning  
toast?"

Lisbon laughed. "Will, I don't need you to be my Dr. Phil, I can handle this."

William sighed and shook his head, smiling, and took a bite of his grilled cheese.

Lisbon was surprised by how well they were getting along. She hadn't realized how much she missed her big brother until she'd first seen him enter the lobby to pick her up. Despite all the years of quiet racked up between them, it was easy to pretend it had never happened.

Van Pelt's question rang softly in her mind. _Why aren't you close to them anymore? _

Sighing and stabbing a piece of fluffy green lettuce with her cold fork, Lisbon began to have her lunch.

"So did you ever figure out the mystery of the wedding invitation?" William inquired as he took a gulp of his lemonade.

Lisbon swallowed her salad. "Well... no. We think it might be connected to the fact Jane got hurt, like this was some sort of set-up, but we can't get all paranoid. It's hard to be for sure. But it sure is strange."

"Yeah, almost like the plot of some movie..."

Lisbon chuckled darkly. "My career can be like that sometimes."

"Well, in any case, I'm kinda glad they sent that fake invitation. It gave me a chance to see my little sister. Well, not so little any more," he added, pausing and thinking for a moment. "The last time we saw each other was..."

"Dad's funeral, yeah," Lisbon murmured. Old memories swirled in her mind like smoke, memories she had fought hard to lock away, memories no child should have.

They were quiet for a moment.

"He'd be disappointed, you know... that we haven't seen each other in so long. When was the last time you saw Tyler or Anthony?"

Lisbon touched her forehead, sighing. "I... I'm not sure. And you know, Dad would probably be too drunk to even remember my name, to remember to be disappointed about us," she growled, that old flame rising in her heart.

Abruptly, cold tears pinched her eyes, and she furiously blinked them away. This was not how she'd pictured her lunch with her long-lost brother to be...

"I know," William said quietly. "I just... I think you know he didn't really want to hurt us."

"But that didn't stop him from what he did, huh?" Lisbon murmured, her anger subsiding as she chewed on her salad, calming down. This was not the place to discuss something like that.

William reached over and touched her hand. She paused and glanced up, swallowing.

"Thanks for coming to see me today," he said quietly. "It means more to me than you probably think, sissy."

Lisbon was quiet, and just nodded.

* * *

**Very interesting... we get to finally meet one of Lisbon's brothers. And the mystery deepens about the invitation... who _did _send it? Why the heck would anyone bother to do such a thing? Guess we'll all just have to find out... in a later chapter ;P**

See you guys all next Wednesday. I'll love ya to death and back if ya review!! I'm curious to know what everybody thinks about the latest chapter in this _epi__**c **_**House-Mentalist story lol (:**

~Sarafina 


	7. Practically Killed

**Wow. Is it truly Wednesday? Can I finally update? I swear, it feels like ages since I've updated my stories... I think my little inner writer is still used to updating every Saturday and Wednesday. Well, she and I will just have to get used to it. (:**

Thanks to Spring Break, there's no school until next Tuesday, and you'd think I'd have tons of time to write, right? But between sleepovers, shopping, and, well, chores (lol) I've had no time to actually sit and write, so you guys should be very honored I made special time lately to get this to you all ;P All I can say is, thanks to all the reviewers, and I hope you all enjoy this one.

Well, thanks for reading, you guys are amazing! And I'm happy to finally get quiet and present the next chapter... (:

(Well, not yet, one thing first...) Disclaimer: Nuthin is mine(:

Now....

* * *

Chapter Seven: Practically Killed

"What do you think your doing?" came a growl.

Jane smiled and glanced over his shoulder. It was Dr. House.

"Oh, I was just looking out the window. Beautiful morning, you know," Jane said calmly, face crinkling into a smile.

"Yeah. Gorgeous. But you aren't supposed to be out of bed, blondie," House growled.

Jane glanced at his feet. "I feel fine. Isn't it a good sign I can walk?"

"Anyone can walk," House said patronizingly.

Jane walked slowly over to his hospital bed. "But you can't," he pointed out.

House was startled to be talked back at like that, but quickly recovered. "So that makes one person, good job," he said roughly, jabbing his cane at Jane, who easily dodged it and slipped into his bed. "Now stay in bed."

"What happened?" Jane asked, pointing to his cane.

House's blue eyes glanced at Jane, then at his Cane, and back at his patient. "I'm going to ask you nicely just once to shut up. Okay?"

"Okay," Jane said with a smile and a shrug.

House eyed him as he limped around the bed. "So, blondie, how are you feeling on this _beautiful_ morning, hmm?"

"Perfectly fine. That's why I was walking around," Jane answered.

House mumbled and slipped a folder out from his scrub.

"Do you have a family?" Jane asked after a moment.

House paused, and glared at Jane. "I told you to shut up, blondie."

"But you didn't tell me to stop asking questions," Jane shot back, eyes bright.

House blinked and stared hotly at Jane. "No," he reluctantly replied. "I have no family. Now tell me what's hurting you."

"I'm not in pain, I'm perfectly fine."

"But you look like crap," House rumbled.

"You're one to talk," Jane replied, teasing.

House glared at him. "Look, blondie-"

"Have you ever fallen in love?"

House stopped, and angrily replied, "Shut up, stop asking questions, how direct do I have to be? Would the magic word "duct tape" do anything to make you quiet?"

Jane considered this. "Probably not."

House shook his head and slapped the folder down on the night table. "Fine. Look, I'm here to get a brief check-up, see how your pathetic body's running. So get up."

"You told me to stay in bed."

House gave a dramatic sigh. "_Now_ I'm telling you to get up. So up!" He waved his arms as Jane got easily out of bed.

He pulled out a stethoscope and pressed the cold circle close to Jane's heart after the blondie pulled his hospital gown down.

House was quiet, listening. "Healthy heart," he said simply, putting the device away after a moment and pulling out a otoscope. "Ready?"

"Sure."

House peered into Jane's ears, checking if every part of him was healthy or affected by the brutal beating.

"I am ready to go home, you know," Jane said as House began to strap a _blood pressure_ monitoring _device around Jane's arm._

"Sure you are, just a few days after you were nearly beaten to death."

"I don't feel sick. This hospital is a waste of time," Jane said sharply.

House glanced at Jane. "Hold still," he ordered gruffly as he began to squeeze the blood pressure pump. The little numbers quickly rose. "Your blood pressure's fine. Let me test your reactions," House mumbled as he unstrapped the device and tossed it on the night table, grabbing a small hammer next to it and motioning for Jane to sit back on the bed.

"My turn to ask questions," House said finally as he began knocking the hammer against Jane's knee. His leg kicked up obediently.

"Fair enough," Jane agreed.

House was quiet as he knocked the other knee. "You ever fall in love?"

Jane's face was swept clean of emotion. "Yes. I have."

House frowned and scoffed. "Let me guess... she left you? No. Cheated? No, you're too pretty a boy for that. Ah... oh, I know... she was dramatically murdered and left you heart-broken?"

House's tone was scornful, yet he didn't realize how close he'd struck the truth.

"Yes, actually," Jane said quietly.

House glanced up at him as he put away the small hammer. "Huh?"

Jane took a deep breath. "My wife was murdered. And my daughter."

House was silent. For the first time in his life, unable to come up with a sarcastic, mean response. "Oh," he lamely managed, and glanced at the floor, then back at Jane. He took a limp back, and gathered his supplies. "Your  
check-up's over. You're not ready to leave the hospital."

Jane did not reply. He was gazing out the window, but the light did not reflect in his swirling eyes.

* * *  
Lisbon pushed herself through the doors of Princeton-Plainsboro, sweeping into the busy, noisy lobby.

William had just dropped her off from lunch, and she wanted to get the team together, to regroup, figure out what the plans were for the next few days. The investigation was leading nowhere, and she'd learned nothing more about the false invitation. Feeling frustrated, she stomped further into the lobby, stopping at the desk, where a tall, slender woman with black hair was finishing up a call.

"Hello," she said as she placed the phone in its cradle and approached Lisbon across the desk. "Do you need some help? I'm Dr. Lisa Cuddy."

"Hey, I'm looking for my friend's doctor, um, Dr. House?" Lisbon inquired.

A look of old weariness passed over Dr. Cuddy's face, but before she could speak, there was a shout. Everyone in the lobby stopped and looked over to where an angry-looking janitor was standing, dripping wet with water, and shaking his fist up at the second level. Little bits of a blue balloon were scattered around him, like someone had dropped a water balloon on the poor guy.

Slowly, Cuddy and Lisbon glanced up, and saw House chuckling to himself, leaning over the second-floor railing that overlooked the lobby. When he saw Cuddy glaring at him, he faked flinching and cried out, "Oh, I am ever so sorry to that poor janitor. I wonder who dropped a water balloon on his head?"

"House!" Cuddy growled. Lisbon was immediately reminded of Minelli. "Stay right where you are. Come with me, please," she added to Lisbon.

"Um, sure. Oh, I'm Teresa Lisbon, by the way," she said hastily.

"Pleasure," Cuddy said, voice severe as she stomped up the silver stairs to cross over and meet House.

"Oh no! The British are coming!" House exclaimed, wide-eyed.

"What is this place to you, a kinder-care? You're a doctor, House, and you have responsibilities. This woman was looking for you, by the way," Cuddy added.

"Ah yes, Blondie's girlfriend," House remembered.

"Girlfriend?" Lisbon repeated.

"Who's Blondie?" Cuddy snapped.

"My patient."

"His name is Blondie?" Cuddy asked, confused.

Lisbon shot a look at House. She didn't know how this woman tolerated him every day. "No, his name is Patrick Jane."

"Patrick Jane?" Cuddy echoed, frowning like the name was familiar. "Hey, I think I know him... didn't he have a TV show, he was a physic...?"

Lisbon stared at Cuddy with surprise. She knew Jane had the past of a semi-celebrity, faking his way to the top as a physic, but she didn't realize people still remembered him. "Um, well, yes, but he quit that job, decided to  
help the police..."

Cuddy shrugged. "Interesting. Now House, be nice to Ms. Lisbon here, and don't cause another lawsuit." With that, she clicked off, and disappeared back to the lower level.

House frowned at Lisbon as he looked her up and down. "So, Ms. Lisbon, what is it you wanted with me?"

"I want to know how Jane's holding up. When will we be able to leave?"

House turned around and began limping away. Lisbon guessed he wanted her to follow, so she did.

"Blondie's fine, but not fine enough to leave. It's only been a few days since he was attacked, if I released him so soon, I wouldn't be acting responsibly, now, would I?" the older man grumbled.

Abruptly, as they entered a hallway and began to turn the corner, Cho appeared. "Boss, I've been looking for you."

"Cho, what's up?"

"What do you know, Jackie Chan, in my hospital," House marveled, glancing Cho up and down with a crooked grin.

Cho stared, unamused, at House for a moment.

"Who ripped out your funny bone?" House snickered.

"Cho," Lisbon demanded as they began walking again.

"I just got back from the crime scene. They've got no new leads, and no real ideas about this. I mean, it's like one in a million, trying to find this attacker."

As they continued walking, they were startled when Van Pelt suddenly popped up, eyes wide, hair messy. "Boss!"

"Dear _god_," House swore, startled.

"Van Pelt," Lisbon said in surprise.

"How many of your people are running around here, anyways?" House grumbled.

"Come quick!" she said breathlessly. "I went to Jane's room to see how he was doing, and-"

There were footsteps, and suddenly Karla was pounding up behind them. She drew to a stop next to Van Pelt. "Jane's gone!"

"What?" Lisbon snapped.

"Gone?" Cho demanded.

"Yes," Karla breathed, eyes panicked. But she looked more concerned that necessary, like she was worried about something else entirely.

"Damn, do I have to put a leash on that mutt?" House growled, limping quickly down the hall now, the others at his heels. "Karla, get Chase, Cameron, and Foreman, we need to find this guy before he walks out of the hospital."

"Would he do that?" Van Pelt gasped.

Lisbon matched paces with House. "Of course he would," she growled.

Karla nodded, and was running off, dodging other nurses and doctors and patients as she disappeared around the corner.

What was he thinking? Lisbon furiously thought, heart racing.

Immediately, they split up. Van Pelt called Rigsby, who was alone at the park, to come and help them look. They alerted the hospital staff of a runaway patient, and soon the buzz had traveled around Princeton-Plainsboro.

Down stairs, through hallways, dive through busy rooms, check around the front.

Van Pelt was skipping down the stairs, anxious to find her blond friend, when suddenly she was at the bottom and nearly crashed into a man sitting quietly on the last dirty stair.

She stopped, gasping, and slowly recognized the curly blond hair, the chiseled face, the rough fingers...

"Jane?" she asked slowly, crouching down to sit next to him.

He blinked and glanced over at her. "Oh, Van Pelt. Hello."

She stared at him, eyes narrowed. "Are you alright?"

He nodded. "Perfect. Why do you ask?"

Van Pelt glanced at the stairs, then at him. She chuckled. "Well, you know, you are all alone on the bottom step of a hospital in New Jersey." She laughed and bit her lip, shrugging. Jane chuckled.

"Yeah, I guess I am. Are they looking for me?"

"Um, just about everyone."

He sighed and shook his head. "People panic too easily. I just wanted to get away from that room. From Karla."

Van Pelt was surprised. "What- you don't like her?"

Jane shrugged. "I dunno, I just get a weird feeling from her."

Van Pelt smiled. "I used to have a boyfriend like that. It turned out he liked video games more than me," she admitted.

Jane laughed and looked at her. "Really? Well, my point exactly." He stopped, then slowly got up, with Van Pelt's help. She called Lisbon, and they slowly walked back upstairs to meet her wrath.

"What were you thinking?" she snarled. "We were all scared for your safety-"

"I was fine, Lisbon. I'm in a hospital, anyways, the safest place on Earth," he said, only a hint of sarcasm.

They were standing in a hallway. Slowly, everyone came back together. Cho, Rigsby, and House arrived. Three other strangers walked behind House, people Jane had never met before. There was a young man with long blond hair, a pretty young woman with light brown hair, and a dark-skinned man with black eyes.

"Hello," Jane greeted them, waving.

"Hey," the blond man answered first.

Rigsby and Van Pelt nodded politely. Cho, however, gazed at them with curiosity; he gazed at the girl the most.

"Oh, yes, introductions. Well, this is my diagnostic team. This hottie's Cameron, the gangster is Foreman, and the Aussie is Chase. Hey," he said suddenly, glancing between Chase and Jane. "Two blondies. This is just picture perfect!"

"Uh, I'm Teresa Lisbon, and this is my CBI team: Grace Van Pelt, Wayne Rigsby, Kimball Cho, and then Patrick Jane." Lisbon motioned to Jane. She'd never admit it, but she was happy to have him back. She hadn't gotten to talk with him much recently.

"Look, blondie, you're my patient, and you aren't supposed to leave your room. Did I not stress that enough? I know you feel better, but leaving all your medicine and stuff could practically get you killed," House growled.

Jane laughed and shook his head. "You truly are an amazing man, House."

House rolled his eyes. "Oh, please, I'm too modest for this."

"Should we get him back to his room, then?" Foreman interrupted.

But before anyone could reply to that, Jane suddenly collapsed. Everyone was shocked, and they rushed to the floor to help get him up.

"What just happened?" Lisbon gasped.

"Jane!" Rigsby exclaimed.

House just stood there, eyes narrowed, leaning on his cane. "You truly are a dead man, blondie," he muttered.__

* * *

  



	8. Almost a Confession

**Hi, all. If you're reading this, then I love you, you're awesome. I'm sorry for the missed update (I was supposed to update yesterday..!!) but I totally forgot, so here I am now. Thank you, hope my favorite people in the world can forgive me =)**

So here ya go. I hope you like what happens in this chapter, it's got some serious... well, you'll find out. (:  


* * *

Chapter Eight: Beginning of a Confession

Things were blurry as Jane slowly opened his eyes.

He blinked quickly, and glanced around, realizing he was on some kind of table. It was white, hard, and cool to the touch.

"Hello?" he croaked.

Someone touched his hand. "Jane, it's okay." He recognized the voice as Lisbon.

He groaned and tried to sit up, but found himself unable to. "I think I need a doctor."

Lisbon laughed. "You're in a hospital, smart one."

Jane blinked. "Oh yeah. Where am I?"

Lisbon sighed.

"Princeton-Plains-"

"No, I mean... wait, is this an MRI room? What are they doing to me?"

Lisbon glanced up. " Dr. Cameron and Dr. Chase are about to perform an MRI, to check your head. You fainted."

"Did I?" Jane asked.

"Yes, you're unstable, now hold still, they're about to start the MRI."

"There's nothing wrong with my head, you know," Jane called after her as she started to walk away and join Cameron and Chase in the small operating room.

"Sure there isn't," Lisbon muttered, smiling all the same.

* * *  
"So?" Lisbon asked anxiously. She was walking out of the MRI room with Dr. Cameron.

Cameron glanced back to where Chase was helping Jane out of the machine. "Well... we couldn't find anything wrong. He must have just fainted out of exhaustion, and he might have a slight fever. But nothing terrible."

Lisbon sighed. "Are you sure?"

Cameron nodded.

Suddenly Cho was approaching them. "Um, how's Jane?"

Lisbon stared at Cho in shock. She'd never heard him say 'um' before. He certainly looked different too. More unraveled, more tired. Poor guy. This trip must be taking its toll on him.

"He's fine for now," Cameron replied. Cho watched her and nodded.

"This is so confusing, like there's no answers. I hate cases that finish like this," Lisbon sighed.

"Me too," Cameron said honestly, sighing as she tucked her pen into her pocket. "Well, Chase will get Mr. Jane back to his room, and we'll do another check-up tomorrow."

"Will be be released soon?" Lisbon asked, concern coloring her tone.

Cameron slipped her fingers through her brown hair, loosening a few strands that fell around her pretty face. "It's hard to say. That's up to Dr. House. And... well, you know," she said with a shrug.

Lisbon smiled grimly. "Sadly, I do. Thank you for everything you've done today, I'll see you tomorrow. Come on, Cho." She began striding away.

Cho glanced after her, and paused, stepping over to Cameron. "Hello, we never properly met," he said, allowing a small smile to curl his face.

"Oh, yeah, I guess I'm the hottie, huh?" Cameron chuckled, shaking Cho's hand. He cracked a smile.

"Yes, I guess I'm Jackie Chan."

Cameron laughed again. "He called you that?"

Cho smiled wryly. "Yeah."

She shook her head and stepped back once. "He's a bastard, I'd apologize for him, but, well, that wouldn't do much good."

Cho shook his head. "Guess not. But really, I'm Kimball Cho."

"Oh, um, Allison Cameron, pleasure."

"Yeah," Cho said, nodding and folding his arms.

They stood there, quiet, for a moment. Cameron smiling politely, looking away. Cho wanting to smile, but for some reason...

"Cho!" came a beaming voice.

They both glanced over the quiet hallway to see Dr. Chase helping Jane walk towards them.

"Hey, Chase," Cameron spoke. "Need help with Mr. Jane?"

"Jane," the blondie corrected her. "No mister."

Cameron glanced at Chase, who shrugged, and she nodded. "Alright, Jane. Chase?"

"Sure," the Aussie agreed with a grateful smile.

"I don't need any help, really, I'm fine," Jane insisted.

"Jane, you just collapsed from exhaustion," Cho pointed out as they started walking down the hallway.

"And your point is?" Jane asked with a bright smile.

Chase chuckled. "You're quiet a guy, Jane."

"One of a kind," Cho agreed dryly. Cameron's mouth curled into a smile.

"Thanks," Jane replied, but looking thoughtful as he gazed at Cho.

* * *  
Karla was the only one in Jane's room. She was finishing cleaning up, and had given Jane his medicine Foreman thought would help. Jane was currently quiet, drifting off to sleep, but not quite asleep.

"Karla?" he murmured, eyes closed.

The brunette paused in her sweeping, and looked up at Jane. She looked troubled. "Yes, Jane?"

He breathed in slowly. "What's wrong?"

Karla stiffened. "I'm fine, thanks for your concern."

Jane was quiet for a long period, and Karla slowly looked away, beginning to sweep again. The hospital was quiet now; visitors had left, night had gently placed a blanket over New Jersey.

"A quiet night. An empty promise."

Karla stared at Jane. "What are you talking about?"

Jane shrugged slowly, face calm with the call of sleep, body relaxed. Yet his senses were still sharp. "What's wrong."

Karla stared at him, face wavering, eyes cold for once.

She quietly left the room. "Sleep well, Mr. Jane."

He sighed. "Just Jane."

The hospital grew quiet, and Karla did not return. Nobody did. Feeling insecure in the hospital, yet exhausted at the same time, Jane's head grew heavier with sleep.

Suddenly, gentle footsteps echoed around the hall.

Not all the visitors were gone.

Lisbon gently walked into the room, face expecting. When she walked in and saw Jane peacefully quiet, chest rising and falling softly, she realized he must be asleep.

Sighing, she walked over and quietly tugged a chair over, so she could sit next to his bed. As she sat, the chair squeaked, and she winced, looking at Jane to see if she'd woken him up.

He stayed asleep.

Lisbon's chest shivered with a quiet sigh, and she stared at Jane. So annoying. So cocky. So smart. So handsome and innocent, laying there like a little boy.

Lisbon gazed at Jane's hand. It glittered with the gold of his wedding ring.

She glanced around the dull room, and then reached over to touch his hand. It was warm and soft, like usual. Her hand raced back to her lap, and she blinked, lost in her thoughts.

She'd come close to losing Jane before. But nothing, nothing, had been like frantically driving through the city, terrified of what she was going to find. Flashlight beams chasing the darkness, car engines roaring, frightening voices of her team. Jane's crumpled, bloody body, limp and hauntingly still.

Lisbon shook herself. Stop it. She hated dwelling in the past. Like of her mother... her father's drunken nights. Taking care of her brothers, having to act the oldest, to try and stop their fear...

"I almost lost you, Jane," she sighed.

The sleeping Jane had no idea she was speaking. He didn't even know she was there. It hurt Lisbon, somehow, to know that he'd never realize she'd come and gone to watch over him. Like when she was looking at Jane, he wasn't really seeing her, but she'd never seen a man so clearly.

"If the team lost you... if Red John got your first, and hurt you, or... or worse..."

Her voice carried softly to the hallway, where House was quietly limping, going to another patient's room. He heard Lisbon's voice.

"Stupid woman. Doesn't she know visiting hours are basically over?" he mumbled to himself. He began to turn into Jane's room, but heard her speaking. Ears pricking, House stopped. He hesitated, then leaned against the wall outside Jane's door and listened.

"... we would never recover. You've become a part of us, like I said... I fear the day you catch Red John, and lose interest in the CBI. In us. I want to know you for a long time, because I barely know you, yet...you're important in a way I just don't know."

She laughed suddenly, brown eyes flicking over his sleeping body. "Why am I talking to a sleeping guy? This is stupid." She shook her head, but Lisbon didn't get up. She just sat there, quiet. House waited outside the door, impatient, curious.

"You saved my life, Patrick Jane," she said, his full name feeling odd on her tongue. "Yes, it was months ago, but it happened. And things are different since before that. You became a stranger who got involved in the team, and then saved my life. Now... I trust you with anything." She hesitated, and bent lower to his face, eyes glassy, face unable to read.

"I'm scared, Jane. You know that, you bastard? I'm terrified. I see Van Pelt and Rigsby growing closer, I see them falling in love. I can't act blind forever, it's my job to prevent it. To prevent falling in love... on the job. And I can't stop acting blind, Jane. Want to know why?" Lisbon's voice was clipped, harsh.

"Want to know why, Jane? Because then I'd be telling them to stop doing something... that I'm falling in to. Jane, I... I can't let it happen. I never thought it would. You were always just a... big, stupid, charming jerk. But you saved my life... you gave up Red John to save me. And Jane, I... I think I'm... falling-"

She stopped suddenly when House stepped into the room. He was somber and quiet for once, blue eyes not so piercing, face not so twisted.

"Um, hello," she said hastily, rubbing at her face.

House gazed at Jane's face, eyes shrewd, not missing a single detail. He looked back at Lisbon. "Oh, hi. I just saw the time, and came up here to tell you I'm gonna have to kick you out." He smiled humorlessly and glanced at his watch. "Closing time for visitors."

Lisbon nodded. "Of course... yes, of course." She glanced around, and quickly got up, pushing the chair back in place. "Um, okay. I'll see you tomorrow... Dr. House," she said quickly, voice strained. She nodded and forced a smile as she slowly walked past him. And in moments, it was like Lisbon hadn't been there at all.

House was quiet for a moment, head on his chest, frowning, blue eyes swirling with thoughts. Finally, he looked up and stared fixedly at Jane. "That's one hell of a problem, Jane."

Jane was quiet. His eyes were closed, his body motionless. And then he spoke.

"I know."_  


* * *

__  
_


	9. Kicking Puppies

**Hey, all. Glad to be back, and once again I know this update is- let's see, three days late? Yup. Life gets in the way- what can I say? =) But thanks for reading, and I'd appreciate it if you could review, too. Thanks! See you all at the next chapter!  


* * *

Chapter Nine: Kicking Puppies**

"Well," Dr. Foreman said as he gazed at his clipboard, then at Jane, who was sitting up on his bed, looking tired and troubled. "I don't know why Dr. House is keeping you here, Jane. Frankly, you're gonna be bruised and cut for a few more months, but you're one heck of a miracle. No broken bones, no destroyed body functions..."

"Thanks," Jane said bleakly, gazing at the wall.

Dr. Foreman frowned, quiet, then shrugged. "Very well, I'll go to House's office, tell him I think you're ready to go."

Jane was silent. He didn't want to go back to California. He didn't want anything. Not after hearing Lisbon last night, realizing the sad truth.

"Um... do you need anything?" Foreman asked seriously, raising a brow.

Jane sighed. There was so much he needed right now. "No thanks. I'm fine." He forced a sick smile, and Foreman, unconvinced, just nodded and walked out.

He had dreamed of his wife last night.

Jane slowly sat back on his bed. Things had been twisted on this cursed trip. Things would never feel the same.

He didn't know how much time passed. He just lay there, unfocused, no noise bothering him, no voices stirring him. He knew the team was back at the hotel, and he didn't want to see them. He needed to be alone.

But suddenly Jane heard the dragging footsteps, the thud of a wooden cane hitting the cold, slick surface of the hospital floor. And Dr. House limped into Jane's room.

Jane gazed up at him. "Hello, doc," he said, voice colorless.

House sighed. "Blondie," he greeted in reply.

Jane stared at House. "What do you need?"

House began limping over to the chair. He sat down slowly, leaning his cane against the night table. "I'm not here for me. I'm here for you." He pulled out a small orange bottle and popped it open, dumping out some chalky  
white pills and tossing them in his mouth.

Jane watched him swallow. "I know you're an addict. You've been careful not to do that in front of me."

House shrugged. "I knew you were some kind of psychic, I played it on the safe side." He thought a moment, then offered the tube to Jane. "Interested? They really help deal with problems, especially co-workers who've  
fallen for you and you have no interest in."

Jane stared coldly at House. "Don't."

House stared at Jane, then shrugged. "That's got to be the first time I ever offered my vicodin to another guy. Hmm. Must be getting soft on you." He put the little orange tube in his jacket pocket.

Jane shook his head. "You don't have to worry about that."

House was silent, lip curled, as he sighed dramatically. "So." He twiddled his thumbs, glancing around the boring room. "Damn," he said suddenly.

Jane looked across towards House. "What?"

House scoffed. "This room really is boring. It would drive me crazy to stay in here all the time. I don't blame you for running away the other day," he added, shaking his head.

Jane blinked slowly. "Are you here killing time before your TV show or do you want to talk about something?"

House glanced at Jane. "Well, technically, I'm hiding. From my boss, Cuddy. She's... well, you'll see."

Jane laughed quietly, shaking his head. "You never fail to surprise me, Dr. House."

House sniffed and shrugged modestly. "Back at you, blondie. Slick move you pulled last night, acting asleep."

Jane was quiet. "I didn't want to talk last night. I didn't want to hear what she said."

House rolled his eyes. "Oh please. Why didn't you suddenly wake up and stop her from saying anything?"

"Why did you stand outside the door and listen to her?" Jane shot back.

House chuckled. "Nice one."

Jane sighed, staring at his hands, folding them, under the dim light of his room. "Why are you keeping me here?" he asked.

House stared at Jane. "You're interesting. I want to see what can possibly happen while I keep you and your little California friends here."

Jane stared at him. "So I'm a prisoner? Or a pet hamster?"

House tipped his head back and forth, considering. "Probably some of both."

Jane looked away from House, eyes dark. "Fine."

House was silent, when suddenly there were footsteps. But neither man was alarmed; it wasn't Cuddy or Lisbon. A man's footsteps.

Suddenly, a head with big brown eyes and wavy brown hair ducked into the room. His eyes hardened when he saw House.

"Wilson, hello. Come to crash this party?" House asked, straightening up and narrowing his eyes at his friend.

James Wilson rolled his eyes slightly and stepped into the room. "House, Cuddy is looking for you everywhere. Why are you in here with a patient?"

"We were gossiping about our hobbies. I kick puppies and this guy eats forks," House said with a severe face, eyes innocent. Jane chuckled.

"I'm so sorry he was bothering you," Wilson told Jane. "House, out. Now."

House sighed and got up, grabbing his cane. "Off to the electric chair, I suppose. Farewell, blondie."

Wilson glared at House. "Really, House? Just come on."

"What did you do to make your boss mad this time, House?" Jane asked.

Wilson tugged House out of the room, but the shaggy man stuck his head in to reply, "Let me put it like this: never put an ant-farm in a balloon, and throw it at a janitor."

"House!" Wilson snapped, and House's head was gone. Jane's smile lasted for a moment; as much as he disliked House, he had a terrible feeling that the man was growing on him.

But that didn't make any of Jane's problems any smaller.

* * *

Cho and Rigsby were walking down the busy hallways of the hospital. Van Pelt and Lisbon were out somewhere, and Rigsby had a bad feeling he knew what they were talking about.

"This trip has turned so weird," Rigsby commented. "I mean, I'd rather be at the office than here."

Cho watched as Cameron and Foreman talked to some other nurses. "You'd rather be working than having idle time? I'd rather this place."

Rigsby shrugged. "Fair enough." He glanced around. "You see any snack machines anywhere?"

Cho shook his head. "But I do know a place that has food."

Rigsby looked up at him hopefully.

As they walked down to the cafeteria, Cho was quiet, and Rigsby began to talk, to shatter the uneasy silence.

"I've still got a grudge against you for doing that to Van Pelt," he murmured.

Cho sighed. "And I've still got a grudge against you for nearly puking in my lap."

Rigsby rolled his eyes. "I'm serious, Cho. Our jobs could be destroyed."

Cho glanced at him. "Well, you should have thought of that before going swimming with her," he replied flatly. "If you expect me to say silent as you romp around with her, I'm not."

Rigsby stared at Cho. "I'd never romp around with her, that makes me sound like a, a tramp," he said sharply.

Cho shrugged as they entered the doors to the noisy cafeteria.

To his surprise, they nearly crashed into Cameron and Foreman.

"Shit," Cameron gasped as her coffee spilled all over the floor. Foreman stepped back quickly, startled.

"We're so sorry," Rigsby said quickly, looking around for a mop or something.

"Ah," Cameron muttered as a janitor walking by noticed and helped her clean up the hot, brown liquid. "No, it's fine. We seem to keep crashing into each other, huh?" she chuckled.

They quickly got the coffee wiped up, and Cho suggested they all sit down. He offered to buy a new coffee for Cameron.

"Thanks," she said with a grateful smile.

Rigsby walked back through the maize of tables and picked one out for the four of them as Cho bought the replacement coffee. Foreman and Cameron pulled out a seat, and they all settled down.

Cho was walking back. "Weird to find you guys here. Cho and I saw you upstairs just a little while ago with some nurses," Rigsby commented as he munched on the chips Cho had bought for him.

"Oh, yeah, we wanted a break, and came down here," Cameron replied.

Cho sat down next to Rigsby and gave the coffee to Cameron. "I'm sorry, again," he added.

Cameron chuckled. "It's fine, really. I've never met a guy who apologized so much over spilled coffee," she remarked.

"Cho's that guy," Rigsby put in. Cho glanced at him.

"So you guys work for the CBI?" Foreman prompted.

"Oh, uh, yeah, the California Bureau of Investigation. It's a... very interesting job," Rigsby said with a smile and a shrug.

"We're never bored," Cho agreed.

Cameron smiled, glancing at Foreman. "Same at this place. House keeps up on our toes."

"Well-" Foreman began, but Cho spoke.

"House is a lot like our Jane. I think they'd get along pretty well."

"I dunno. House doesn't really make friends," Foreman replied with a laugh.

Cho was watching Cameron. "You guys like your job here, though?"

She shrugged and nodded as she began to take a sip of her coffee.

"Oh, don't hurt yourself- it's hot," Cho said quickly, half-standing up. People glanced over as his chair scraped the floor.

Cameron stared at him. "Um, okay. Thanks." She smiled slightly and put the coffee down.

"Do you need something to cool it off with?" Cho inquired.

Rigsby looked around at Cho, brows raised, then met Foreman's eye.

Cameron laughed nervously. "No, I'm good."

Cho blinked, then sat back down, not daring to look at Rigsby.

* * *

"Cho and Cameron, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-"

"Would you shut up and get down from there?" Cho growled.

It was after their meeting with Cameron and Foreman. Cho and Rigsby were outside, waiting around for Van Pelt and Lisbon, and Rigsby was currently sitting on a thick tree branch, grinning down at his friend.

"Nah, if I go down there you'll just beat me to death. Now, where was I? Oh yeah; K-I-"

"This is childish. You're starting to sound like Jane," Cho said frostily.

Rigsby just laughed and shifted in the hard wood of the tree. It was cold, but he felt perfectly fine up in the tree, no matter how many people were walking by and staring.

"And you're starting to sound like Lisbon."

"Look, for the final time, Rigsby, I don't like Cameron..."

"Sure you don't. Oh, don't hurt yourself- it's hot! Do you need something to cool it off with? This is beautiful," Rigsby sighed.

"I could say a lot of things right now," Cho said shortly, voice clipped. He folded his arms. "Look, people are staring. Do you want people staring at you? Do you like the attention?"

"No, I think you like Cameron."

"Rigsby-"

"Rigsby?"

Cho and Rigsby stopped and peered over to see Lisbon and Van Pelt walking towards them. It was their boss who'd spoken, and she looked bewildered. "What the hell are you doing in a tree, Rigsby?"

Rigsby looked embarrassed for a fleeting moment, but then his face broke out in a smile. "Because if I get down, Cho will kill me."

Van Pelt grinned, and Lisbon folded her arms, tapping her foot. "Why is that?"

"Cho's got a crush on-"

"This is all a silly, uh, weird situation, Rigsby's just acting like Jane," Cho explained flatly, glaring at Rigsby.

"Cho likes Cameron," Rigsby blurted as he fell from the tree. He muttered and laughed, cracking his neck side to side as he got up with a groan. "Getting a little old for that stuff."

"Really?" Lisbon growled. "Rigsby, stop tormenting Cho, we're not in the third grade, and Cho, keep your focus, don't let a brunette nurse make this trip any more complicated. Got it? Now come on. We need to get Jane from  
that hospital; our stay here is done."

Cho, for the firs time in years, flushed red, and his eyes were darker than normal.

"That was for humiliating Grace and me," Rigsby murmured in Cho's ear.

"Thanks," Cho growled.

"But seriously, do you like her?" Rigsby hissed at Cho, wary to not let the boss hear.

Cho twitched. "Of course not."

Rigsby shrugged. "It's nothing bad, you should ask her out. She'd be good for you. She's fun, and you're, well..." Rigsby grinned and shrugged. "Just kidding."

* * *

**=)**


	10. The Cho Triangle

**Hey again, my friends. Well... yes, this update has got to be the latest I've ever posted. I'm truly sorry to anyone who was kept waiting for another chapter, things get in the way... the OAT testing, for one, which if you don't know is a big testing policy for the US... stupid, stupid, stupid. And then there's been sickness, and homework, and crap like that. So without other excuses, I'm here, and glad to be. Thank you for checking out the next chapter, I'm enjoying how it's going. Review if you take pity on me =)**

* * *

**Chapter Ten: The Cho Triangle**

"House, Ms. Lisbon is demanding you let Jane go. This isn't right that you're keeping him just because you want a friend to torment," Lisa Cuddy snapped.

She was in her office, standing at her desk, and glaring at House, hands on her hips.

House stared at her. "Sorry, that wasn't very scary. Now if you'd shouted-"

"For the millionth time, I'm serious, House! I'm not letting this go on."

"But," House said. "But but.... Blondie fainted yesterday, and I don't feel like he's ready to leave. Anyways, there are... emotional things... that should be sorted out before they all leave..."

"You mean you're being nosy. And since when have you started caring for any patient?" Cuddy demanded, dark eyes fierce.

House got up, cane in his grip, and began limping out of the office. "Sine I started watching Scrubs."

The doors swung open and House limped through, closing on Cuddy, as she stared after House hopelessly. "You make no sense!" she called after him, shaking her head in frustration.

House limped out into the busy lobby, with patients and nurses scrambling all around him. But one woman did not scramble; she beelined. Right at House.

Lisbon.

House saw her, and swung around, beginning to limp the other way. But she caught up with him easily and whirled around, facing House. "I want you to let Jane go."

House stared at her, brow raised. "And I want you to get out of my face. How about we both close our eyes, count to three, and see if our wants come true?"

Lisbon blinked. "What?"

"Close those eyes," House said. Lisbon, frowning, slowly closed her eyes.

"One.... two...." House counted.

He paused, then ducked away.

Lisbon realized the trick too late and quickly opened her eyes. "House!" she shouted after the retreating limper.

He gave no sign he heard her, and hopped into the elevator. The doors closed.

He sighed and shook his head. "Women," he muttered, as the elevator beeped and came to a stop, the silver doors swinging open.

Standing outside was Lisbon, staring coolly at him.

They stared at each other for a second. "Wow, that was fast," House remarked as he stepped out of the elevator.

"Two can play this game," she said shortly.

House smiled. "I like you," he commented. "Walk," he commanded as they started down the hallway.

"I know what Dr. Cuddy was talking to you about, and I'm going to file a lawsuit if you don't stop holding Jane prisoner!"

"Lawsuit? Wow, that's a big word for such a little lady. Are you sure how Jane feels about this?"

Lisbon stiffened. "No."

House smiled. "Here's your chance to ask him," he told her, pointing his cane to an achingly familiar doorway. Lisbon stared at it, expression unfathomable.

"You," she said shakily.

House frowned thoughtfully, lowering his cane. "What has caused you to lose that confidence, Lisbon?"

Lisbon stared at House. "I don't want to talk to him right now," she said shortly. Something flickered in her eyes as she slowly turned around. "Just let Jane go, soon," she called over her shoulder as she began to walk away.

House stood there, leaning on his cane, face thoughtful. "You didn't have any trouble talking to him last night."

Lisbon froze in her tracks, and said nothing for a long minute. Quietly, she said, "I hate you."

House sighed. "Lisbon, you can't hide your feelings forever-"

"Shut up!" she snarled, and raced down the hall until she had disappeared.

House was quiet, and he slowly looked over to Jane's room.

He knew the blondie had heard the whole exchange.

* * *

Rigsby was alone, strolling quietly down the sidewalk. He was heading to the theater, to see a movie with Cho, since there was nothing else to do. Lisbon had ordered Van Pelt to stay at the hospital and keep and eye on things while she looked for House. It was strange; almost like she was making an effort to keep Rigsby and Van Pelt apart.

His heels clicking roughly on the hard, chalky sidewalk, he took a deep breath, and finally gave in to the flaming curiosity in his chest. Lisbon's silence over the whole underwear thing was making him nervous, and he had to find out sooner or later what she'd told Van Pelt that morning.

Rigsby took out his black cellphone and dialed Van Pelt's number quickly.

It rang once. Twice. At last it picked up. "Van Pelt," her voice spoke.

"Grace," Rigsby said quickly.

"Wayne?" Van Pelt asked, sounding startled. "Hey. Where are you?"

"Heading to the movies to see one with Cho. But I'd rather see one with you; no offense to old Cho, course," he added with a chuckle. The cold morning sunlight broke through a wispy cloud and hit the ground, warming  
Rigsby's face. He smiled slightly.

He could hear Van Pelt's grin through the phone. "Me, too. It's so boring here at the hospital."

Rigsby chuckled, but it was dry. "Look... I... I was wondering about this morning. When you were out with Lisbon. What did she tell you?"

Van Pelt was quiet. "Wayne..."

"Please, Grace, I feel like I need to know."

Van Pelt sighed. "Wayne... she didn't... she didn't mention it."

Rigsby stopped walking. "What?"

"Exactly. I was so sure she'd talk about it, but I... I think there's something bothering her. Wayne, something's wrong. She wasn't acting like, you know, her normal self, because if she'd been normal... I know she would have  
brought it up."

Rigsby frowned, rubbing his jaw and sighing. He kicked his heel on the sidewalk as cars rushed by, people chatted and walked. "Alright, I'll see what I can do. Maybe I can ask what's wrong. Grace, this silence is not good. I feel like it's a bomb about to blow up..."

"That's how I feel, but like you said- we'll get through it, we'll figure this out. Hey, I gotta go, Lisbon's walking over. Bye."  
Rigsby was quiet. "Bye."

He clicked the phone off, and stood there, thinking. Now that Van Pelt had mentioned it, that made sense... Lisbon had been acting different very recently. He wasn't sure why, and he knew it couldn't mean anything good.

Not a minute had passed when suddenly Rigsby's phone was ringing wildly. He jumped, and nearly dropped it as he answered. "What?"

"Rigsby, it's Cho."

"Hey."

"I'm not going to the movie."

Rigsby blinked. "Oh, well, that's fine. But why?"

Cho was quiet, uncomfortable, for a long second. "I'm going out."

Rigsby laughed. Suddenly it clicked. "You asked Cameron out, didn't you?"

He could almost hear Cho's shrug. "Yeah. And?"

Rigsby grinned. He felt proud of his little buddy. "Good job, I knew you liked her. Have fun, Cho, I'll be fine at the movies."

Cho cleared his throat. "Thanks. But... Rigsby?"

Rigsby frowned, smiling expectantly. "Yeah?"

Cho was silent for a long minute, trying to decide what words to use, when he spoke at last. "Do you have any suggestions for what I should wear?"

Rigsby laughed. "Stay where you are, Cho, I'm coming to help. Are you at the hotel?"

"Yeah."

Rigsby just smiled and shook his head. "I'm about to call a cab."

* * *  
"I look stupid."

Cho was in the backseat of a taxi with Rigsby, on their way to the lunch place where Cho had set up his date with Cameron.

"You do not. You look handsome," Rigsby replied with a laugh.

Cho really didn't look that bad. He was in a white button-down shirt with a bit of his chest showing (Rigsby had assured Cho that women liked that), and nice black pants. He looked more relaxed and comfy that Rigsby had ever seen him.

"I feel stupid."

"Don't. And there's your place," Rigsby said as he tossed the cab driver some money and climbed out, slamming the yellow door behind them. Cho put his hands in his pockets.

"It's too cold to wear this thin shirt."

"Stop complaining, you sound like my grandma," Rigsby replied as he nudged Cho down the sidewalk.

The restaurant was pretty, with large glass windows that gleamed like frozen water, and sparkling lights decorating them. Inside, it looked clean and snug, and a bright sign hanging above the fancy doors said "Igarta  
Restaurant" in large, curly red letters.

Hopping up the stairs, Rigsby peered in.

"Is she there?" Cho asked, sounding a little strained.

Rigsby looked around, then his eyes lit up. "Sure is. She looks pretty, Cho."

"I know," he said, like he'd always known.

Rigsby looked back at Cho, beaming. "Alright, well, good luck. Remember, be relaxed, be cool, be polite, and not too romantic, women think you're rushing in if you do that."

Cho nodded. "Thanks, Rigsby," he said honestly, and he didn't smile, but his eyes did. And that was enough for Rigsby, who nodded, clapped his friend on the shoulder, and started walking back towards the street to hail a cab. Cho took a deep breath and started towards the restaurant.

"Oh, and Cho?"

Cho paused and glanced back at Rigsby.

"Try to laugh, would you?" he suggested, grinning.

Cho just shook his head and swung the doors open, stepping into the warm restaurant.

He looked around. There were several people, all talking quietly and eating and laughing. At last, his gaze fell upon a girl with long, wavy brown hair, sitting quietly by the window. Like she felt his eyes, she looked up, and smiled.

"Cho, hello," she greeted him as he walked over to the table.

Cho felt himself smile at Cameron. "Hey," he replied. Act cool. Right.

"I was thinking... since it's like a date and all, we should use first names for once." Cameron grinned slightly.

Cho blinked. "This is gonna be weird."

Cameron laughed. "Well, let's try it... Kimball?"

Cho nodded. "Not too bad."

She grinned and began looking through the menu. "So what do you think you'll get? I love this place..."

Cho blinked. "Ah, I've never come here before, so it's my first."

Cameron realized this. "Oh that's right, you're from California. Well, um, Kimball," she said, laughing. Cho laughed as well; he was startled by how much Cameron brought out in him. "It's weird, I always forget that... it's sort of like I feel like I've known you a lot longer than just a week."

Cho stared at her, eyes wide. "Really? Thats, um, weird. I kinda feel like that too, some days."

Cameron smiled. "Really?"

He nodded, and smiled nervously. "Well, I guess I'll get a sandwich or something. I'm not really here about the food, I'm here for you." He stopped. "Crap, that sounded horrible."

Cameron just smiled. "No, it was sweet."

Cho scoffed, shaking his head. "I'm, like, really bad at dating. I don't do it much."

Cameron watched Cho, something dark in her eyes. "Really? I kind of don't, either... work is my only love, most days. I suppose I should get out more often, but..." She shrugged.

Cho took a deep breath, and forced a smile. What to talk about? "So... I want to know about you. Um, family, friends, pet rocks..."

"Pet rocks?" Cameron laughed. "Well, I'm sad to say I have no pet rocks..."

"Shame," Cho remarked. He made her laugh again.

"But I do have a family... so maybe we should start there?"

Cho gazed at her. "That would be a good start."

* * *

  
**Haha... "awh" moment for Cho and Cameron, please (: Rigsby's sure enjoying his role as match-maker... while the story between Lisbon and Jane thickens. Hmm... anyone want an update? (:**


	11. Bonding Time

**Hello all! Thanks so much for the reviews, you guys really are awesome. Hope you enjoy, I'll update as soon as I get enough time to write ;P  


* * *

Chapter Eleven: Bonding Time**

That evening, Van Pelt decided to go see Jane. "How are you feeling?" Van Pelt asked as she walked around to Jane's bed.

Jane shrugged. "Perfect. House is basically just keeping me here now for his own reasons."

Van Pelt shook her head. "He's a weird guy."

Jane smiled slightly. "Maybe that's why he's grown on me."

Van Pelt sat down in the same chair Lisbon had sat in last night. "Grown on you?"

Jane tipped his head side to side. "Yeah, he's an absolute ass, but... he's interesting."

She laughed. "I suppose that why he's keeping you here, too. He finds you interesting."

Jane smiled. "I'm honored." He bowed his head. Van Pelt smiled, and shook her head.

They grew quiet.

"How's Lisbon?" Jane finally asked. His voice was quiet and leathery, like he almost didn't want the answer, but thought it polite to ask.

Van Pelt narrowed her eyes. "Um..." She knew Jane could tell if she was lying. "She's... distant," she finally admitted. Jane glanced over at her, and saw worry bright in her eyes.

"An explanation would be nice," Jane said softly.

Van Pelt bit her lip. "It's just... not that big of a deal. We're all kinda worried about her, though." She shrugged, glancing at the floor, then back up at Jane. "She's like the mom of this... family. Without her, we're not..." Her voice trailed off, but Jane knew what she meant.

"So you still care for her feelings, even after she destroyed yours?" Jane asked Van Pelt.

Van Pelt's mouth opened, then closed, as she struggled to find a reply to that. "I- she told you? About-"

Jane smiled. "She didn't have to say anything. I could tell what happened." Van Pelt stared at him anxiously, rubbing her thighs nervously and looking away. "I'm not mad. It's kinda funny, actually."

Van Pelt sighed. "Thanks, that really helps," she said shortly.

"Come on, we all know about you and Rigsby," he said kindly, reaching out and touching her hand. It was warm, and soft to the touch.

Van Pelt swallowed. She knew she could talk about this with Jane. She trusted him. "I just don't understand," she said harshly. "It's not fair. Why can't people love each other? It's just a stupid job. A stupid rule."

Jane gazed at her through sad eyes. "Van Pelt," he sighed. "It's not a stupid rule. It's to make sure people stay focused, to remember the law is their love, their first priority. Not their colleague."

"But why can't we be together? Jane, I just... I wish Lisbon understood what I'm feeling. Then maybe she'd not be so..." Van Pelt shivered, and got up suddenly. "I need to go."

"Wait," Jane said quietly when she was at the door. Van Pelt stopped, and sighed.

"What, Jane?" she asked as she slowly turned around to look at her friend once more. His blue eyes sparked emotionlessly up at her, his face more serious than it had ever been. She wished he would smile, to break the ice.

"Don't speak so quickly of Lisbon. She might understand better than you think," he told her, voice distant.

Van Pelt gazed at him, frowning. She almost said something, then stopped, and shook her head. "Good night, Jane," she finally spoke, and left.

Jane gazed at the door for a long time. He realized he missed Lisbon. Things had been fine until she'd gotten too emotional... too friendly with Jane. Why did she have to do that?

Now, gazing at nothing, sitting in his dull, quiet room, Jane realized that work back home in California was going to be impossible after this trip.

* * *  
"You little sneak," House declared as he limped into their meeting room.

Cameron was sitting, discussing Jane's case with Chase. Foreman was making some coffee over at the fridge. They all glanced up at House, puzzled.

"What?" Foreman asked first.

House made himself clear by jabbing his cane at Cameron, whose eyes were wide. She stared back at House, startled. "Cameron, you little sneak. Does that help, Foreman?"

Foreman rolled his eyes and went back to sit at the long glass table. Cold light seeped into the room, but it was not tinged with any gold; the sun was sleeping, tucked away behind a cloud, while a fuzzy gray sky stretched out as far as the eye could see across a young New Jersey day.

"What do you mean?" Cameron asked quickly. Chase glanced at her, then at House.

"A dying man. A crippled man. An Aussie. Now an Asian man? Really, Cameron, in some books that's called... well, some bad things." House widened his eyes and put his hand to his mouth, mocking shock.

Cameron's face set, and her eyes turned cold. "Luckily, in my book, it means I'm being open-hearted. At least I don't pick one group and stick with it, like you and your hookers."

Chase and Foreman, confused, just watched as House's eyes lit up and he smiled wryly. "That was below the belt, sister, good one," he said sarcastically as he made himself comfortable on a chair and leaned his cane against his lap. He popped some Vicodin while he waited for someone to speak.

"What do you mean?" Chase asked House, setting down a manila file.

House laughed. "You mean he doesn't know? You don't know? Foreman, do you know?"

"I think we can establish Chase and I have no idea what you and Cameron are talking about," Foreman said simply, sipping his coffee.

House slapped his knee and shook his head. "This is a riot, I'm loving it too much to tell you-"

"I went on a date with Kimball Cho," Cameron cut House off.

Chase blinked, and Foreman lifted his brows.

House rolled his eyes. "Way to break the ice, Cameron," he accused her.

"That Asian guy? The one who's on Lisbon's team?" Chase asked, some blond hair falling into his eyes. Cameron sighed and crossed her arms, glaring at House. She really hated him sometimes.

"No, the other Asian guy," House whispered.

Chase looked bewildered.

"I think I can take it from here," Cameron told House coolly, and looked over at her colleagues. "Yes, I agreed to go to the Igarta Restaurant with him. It was nothing big, we just talked-"

"Did he ask you on a second date?" Foreman interrupted.

Everyone leaned it.

Cameron stared around at them in disgust. "Yes, alright?"

"That's big," Chase said suddenly.

"Chase!"

"Well I'm just saying..."

"Why do you have to be such a child, House? I was going to break the news like a normal person, not like this," Cameron hissed as she got up, grabbed a handful of folders, and stomped out of the room.

Everyone stared at the glass door as it clicked shut, Cameron leaving from view.

House let out a deep sigh and shrugged. "Well, that was my high social event of the day." He got up and began limping out of the meeting room.

"Wait, House, you're not even gonna ask us how we're doing on Jane's case?" Foreman asked.

House stopped and looked at them. "Nah. I've got a better way to spend my time."

Foreman and Chase exchanged a glance.

"Ever heard of an ice balloon, instead of a water balloon?" House asked as he swung open the glass door and left.

Chase blinked, and Foreman sighed. "Poor janitor..."

But the Aussie didn't respond. "What would draw her to an Asian guy? He's not even that attractive," Chase said roughly.

He glanced over at Foreman, who was staring at him, dead-panned. "Oh yes. He's so sexy," Foreman said flatly, got up, and left a bewildered Chase alone to his thoughts.

* * *  
"Nothing?" Lisbon repeated.

The two police-officers sighed as they stared back at her. "Ms. Lisbon, you have no idea how much this upsets us, we're as frustrated and confused as you."

"Yeah, you look really upset," she told them frostily.

The taller police-officer, whose last name Lisbon believed was Michael, shook his head and folded his arms. "Now, Ms. Lisbon, please, we really are unhappy. This investigation is important to us-"

"Bull. If it was truly important, you'd be done by now. That's my friend who was attacked a week ago, and you police still have no leads? Does the California police have to do something? Should I step in with my team?"

The shorter officer, Bank, quickly said, "We can't help it. The attack was so vague, like it never happened. There's almost no proof someone jumped Mr. Jane..."

"Except for the fact he's got scratches and bruises."

The officers exchanged a look.

Lisbon finally realized how rude she was being, and how tired these men looked. She knew what jerks she dealt with in her job, and knew she was being one of them. Putting a hand to her face, she sighed slowly. "Mr. Bank,  
Mr. Michael, I'm really sorry, I'm just unhappy and tired..."

They nodded. "We understand," Michael told her kindly. "And we swear to keep you updated on any new information. We just came to tell you that, well, frankly, nothing is promising. These is one of the hardest cases we've had, and experts are working on it as we speak. But with such little information on the attacker, well..."

Lisbon shook her head, then said, "Well, thank you for your efforts, I appreciate all of this. Have a good night," she added.

Michael and Bank tipped their hats, and the two police-officers left the lobby of the hospital. They were talking to each other as they left, probably about her.

Lisbon watched them leave, arms cross, face disappointed. One full week and no idea about the attack on Jane. This was hopeless.

Rigsby walked up behind her. "Boss."

"Rigsby," she greeted, blinking and glancing up at him. She frowned. "Did you get taller?"

Rigsby chuckled. "I don't think so."

Lisbon sighed for perhaps the millionth time as the two police officers left Princeton-Plainsboro hospital, and were gone into the cold December day. Lisbon had been so busy recently, she hadn't even realized November was gone. December. Christmas time. Yikes.

"Anything?" Rigsby prompted when she stayed quiet. Nurses, patients, visitors, and doctors all walked busily around them. The action in this place never seemed to die down.

Lisbon looked up at him, eyes hollow. "Nope. They have no idea who attacked Jane, and why."

"No DNA evidence? So people saw what happened?"

"Guess not."

Rigsby stared at the doors. "Some police they are."

"I think they really are trying, but Jane's case is just one in a million. It's Christmas time, crime doesn't stop because of a holiday." She began walking away, Rigsby following her.

"Yeah. Everyone's busy mugging the mall Santas," Rigsby agreed. Lisbon chuckled, when suddenly someone called her name.

"Teresa! Hey, Teresa!"

She looked around, and was surprised to recognize her brother, William, and a strange woman walking over to them. They were bundled up and just entered the doors to the hospital; cheeks rosy, eyes frosty, they grinned  
and waved.

"Relatives?" Rigsby muttered.

"My brother, in fact," Lisbon muttered back.

"Oh yeah, the one with the wedding that didn't really take place!"

"Don't remind me," Lisbon sighed.

"Teresa, hey!" William laughed, hugging his sister.

"Hi, Will. What are you doing here?"

William shrugged. "I figured you should meet Molly, and anyways, I want to meet this Patrick Jane."

Lisbon stiffened.

"Hello, Teresa, I'm Molly. We spoke on the phone once," the woman next to William warmly greeted Lisbon. She was pretty, with curly, dark blond hair and blue eyes the color of the marble no one wants to lose.

"Oh, yes, I can't forget. I'm Teresa- obviously. Good to meet you," Lisbon replied, forcing a smile. She wished she could be happy to see family, and she was pleasantly surprised to see Will again and meet Molly, but... but the  
gaping hole in her chest was painful. She knew she couldn't ignore it much longer, and somehow, the love of her long-lost brother just didn't patch it up.

"Teresa, is this your boyfriend?" Molly asked, grinning at Rigsby. He coughed and his cheeks went red a bit. Lisbon closed her eyes, annoyed, for a moment. I don't need this.

"Molly, I told you that-" William started, seeing his sister's impatience.

"No, it's fine. Actually, this is my colleague, Wayne Rigsby. Rigsby, my brother and his girlfriend."

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Molly said, honest, and eyes wide. Lisbon thought she looked like a fawn. "But hello... Rigsby."

"Hey," William shook the tall man's hand.

Rigsby smiled uneasily and nodded.

"How'd you know to find me here?" Lisbon asked.

William shrugged. "Seems like you spend most of your time here instead of the hotel."

Lisbon blinked. He was right.

"So you said you wanted to meet Jane?" Rigsby asked loudly.

"Yes, if that's fine. Teresa was talking about him at Bob Evans the other day, and I got curious," William explained.

Lisbon's eyes widened, and she bit her lip. She knew avoiding Jane ever since that... that one night... wasn't healthy, and could only end painfully, but that didn't make her want to stop. She was miserably hopeless when she  
thought about going back to California, having to always see Jane, always see that golden ring...

"You guys can go," she said abruptly. "I've got to find Van Pelt. Um... she's probably hungry for lunch."

"Oh- mind if I..." Rigsby stopped as Lisbon's eyes flashed. She hasn't forgotten about the incident at the hotel quite yet. "Actually, I think I want to take William and Molly to see Jane. Uh... say hi to Van Pelt, would you?"

"Sounds fine."

"You sure, sissy? We only just got here," William said, eyes shrewd. He knew something was up. Lisbon only prayed he never put two and two together, for God's sake. Or... for that matter, anyone else on the team. Or in the  
world.

"I'm sure. You guys go," Lisbon told them, nodding and forcing a smile.

William glanced at Rigsby, then back at Lisbon, and shrugged, waving bye, as the tall man lead him and Molly down to Jane's hospital room.

Lisbon sighed ruefully and shook her head, beginning to walk towards the hospital entrance as she got her cell out, dialing Van Pelt's number.

Abruptly a girl gasped, and Lisbon looked up, dropping her phone, as she froze, nearly knocking Karla Sheppard down. The girl looked nervous and jumpy, for some reason. Lisbon wondered what was wrong.

"Crap, Karla, I'm so sorry, my phone was distracting me..."

Karla swallowed hard. She stared at Lisbon, but didn't look like she was seeing her. "It's okay," she squeaked.

Lisbon frowned as she bent down to retrieve her phone. "Are you sure you're..." Lisbon had straightened back up, and realized Karla had vanished.

She twisted around to see the young nurse walking quickly away, arms at her sides.

"Weird people around here," she muttered, as she shook her head and continued dialing Van Pelt's number. 


	12. Going Deeper

**Hey, you all. I'm sorry this update's overdue; frankly, there's like a week left of school, and despite the pure awesomeness of that, there's a lot going on. It's crazy, and I've had like no time to sit down and write, which I hate. But here you go. Thank you so much to all the reviewers and readers, you are amazing! And here, I'll give you a random fact: currently I'm thinking about my hubby... don't worry, I'm not really married, he just says we are. Love him... and I'm so sad cuz I'm going away this weekend, which means two things: a) I won't be able to write *tear* and b) I won't see him. Hmm so yeah random fact right there. Alright, thanks guys, see you all in a week hopefully (:  


* * *

Chapter Twelve: Going Deeper**

"Hello, Mr. Jane," Chase said as he entered Jane's room.

"Ah... Robert Chase?"

"Yes, the Aussie," Chase replied with a chuckle.

Jane's face crinkled in a smile. "I remember now. I think I've got some Australian in me, you know."

"Really?" Chase asked as he smiled and put down his folders on the table next to Jane's small bed.

"Yup. So... what is it now?"

Chase cleared his throat and said, "Well, actually, nothing medical. I'm here for House. He wants me to spy on you," he admitted.

Jane laughed. "How come?"

Chase shrugged. "House is crazy sometimes... he says he doesn't want to let you slip away again or something."

Jane shrugged, still smiling a bit. "I wouldn't be surprised if that man put a leash on me."

Suddenly, there were voices, and three people entered Jane's room. He recognized Rigsby, and the other two Jane had never met before. But he knew who they were before they introduced themselves.

"You must be William Lisbon... you look just like your sister," Jane said, smiling and offering his hand to William. "And Molly Byrd, welcome."

They stared. "How do you know our names?" Molly inquired.

Jane smiled. "I'm just one of those people."

"He's a mentalist," Rigsby put in. "An independent consultant for the CBI."

"That's cool," Molly replied with a smile.

William frowned. "Yeah, Teresa told me about you, but now that I see you, you seem familiar..." William paused. "Did you have a TV show once?"

Jane's smile died slowly. "I did," he acknowledged. "But that life's behind me."

Chase swallowed and tasted an awkward silence in the air. "Hi, I'm Dr. Chase, one of Jane's doctors on his case," he introduced himself, smiling and shaking Molly's and William's hand.

"Where's Lisbon?" Jane asked.

Rigsby glanced at William. "She wanted to have lunch with Van Pelt."

Jane was quiet. "I see."

The room was suddenly entered when Cameron walked in. She stopped, startled to see so many people in the room. "Um, hello. I'm here for Jane..."

"Did House tell you to spy, too?" Chase guessed, grinning at Cameron.

Cameron laughed. "Yes, actually."

"Dr. House?" William asked. "I think Teresa mentioned him as well... the word "ass" was in the same sentence..."

Cameron and Chase chuckled. "That would be our Dr. House," Cameron said. "Um, are you relatives or friends? I'm Dr. Cameron, by the way, I'm on Jane's case."

"Friends," Jane answered for them.

"Good. Now, since you are in bed, Chase and I can leave..."

Suddenly, Cho's head stuck in the doorway. "Whoa. Hey, has anyone seen-" He stopped. "Cameron."

Cameron blinked, startled. "Oh, hey Ki- I mean, Cho."

Chase stared at her.

Cho walked in. The room was cramped by this point. "Cameron, would you come here, I wanted to ask about tonight-"

"Tonight?" Jane repeated, that old smile back on his face.

"Who are you?" Molly inquired, polite as possible.

"This is Cho, he works on the team for Lisbon," Rigsby muttered, scratching the back of his head. "Um, William, Molly, do you want to get out of-"

"Tonight? What's happening tonight, Cho?" Jane asked, looking between Cameron and Cho.

Chase looked at Jane, then back at Cameron. "Yeah. What's happening?"

Cameron glared at Chase, then looked back at Jane. "Um... Cho and I are going on another date, that's it."

Jane grinned. "I knew it. I heard about this new couple, you two are hot news around the hospital..."

"Are they really?" Chase mumbled.

Cho looked at Chase. "Are you Dr. Chase?"

Chase moved through the cramped room to face Cho. "And you're Kimball Cho, huh?"

Cameron glanced desperately between the two men.

Molly, William, Rigsby, and Jane all looked at Cho. "Yes. I am Cho."

Chase said nothing, just sighed, and glanced back at Cameron.

There was a sudden noise that made everybody cringe. The noise of a cane thudding against the tiles on the floor. And sure enough, a shaggy head poked into the cramped room.

"Oh my god, is there a party going on in here? Allow me to crash it," House announced, whipping out his cane and slapping a small sign on the wall next to the door. "Capacity limit: Four people." He looked back at them.  
"Now, I'm the most important person in here, Blondie's stuck here, and Cameron and Chase are my doctors. So everybody else, out."

"I'm taking it you're Dr. House?" Molly asked. William glanced at her, then back at House uneasily.

House sighed. "That's my name, lady, don't wear it out," he growled.

Rigsby, William, and Molly filed out. Cho was the last one to leave, and Cameron called after him, "Hey, I'll call you about tonight, okay?"

Cho glanced back and nodded, face swept clean of emotion.

And then they were gone.

At last, the room could breath. Sighing and falling back in the chair, Chase shook his head. "Wow."

"Wow barely covers it," Jane said cheerfully. He seemed quite amused by the whole Cho-Cameron-Chase soap opera going on.

"So," House said, glancing around. "Who's gonna gossip first?"

"House, I'm not going to spy for you, okay? It's so childish," Cameron said roughly. Chase was gazing at the TV, where it made a low mutter as its voices mushed together. Clearly, there was more than once person still  
thinking about the events that had just unfolded before them.

House rolled his eyes. "God, Cameron, you just love crashing parties. At least I still have Chase," he added, rolling his head over to look at Chase, who was looking firmly away from everyone.

"No I'm not," he said clearly, still looking at the TV.

House sighed. "Fine, just fine. What a waste." He glared at Cameron and Chase. "That was your cue to run out."

Chase sighed. "Whatever." He got up from the chair and began walking out, sharply avoiding Cameron as she left the room as well.

House stared after them until they were gone, and then he faced Jane. "Having fun, hamster?"

"Plenty," Jane replied easily. He frowned at House's hands. "Did the poor janitor get another balloon thrown on him today?"

House glanced at his hands, and sighed, popping a Vicodin. "First of all, nothing was thrown at him; it came innocently from the sky. And secondly, it was no normal balloon; it was an ice-balloon."

Jane chuckled, gazing at House. "That's just cold." He paused. "No pun intended."

House rolled his eyes. Suddenly, his pager was beeping. House glanced at it, and muttered something. "I gotta fly, Blondie. Hang in there; I'll be back." He smiled wryly at his patient. "I'm not done with you yet."

"If you ask me, you were done with me days ago," Jane replied, sighing.

"Toodle-ooh!" House called as he limped from the room.

* * *  
"Chase, wait up!"

Cameron was chasing after, well, Chase. She felt terrible after what had happened in Jane's room, and her heart was more confused than her mind...

"Why should I, Cameron? Don't you have to call Cho about that date tonight?" Chase asked over his shoulder. He was walking down the hall, face set, as he had no thoughts to let up his pace and let Cameron talk to him.

"Chase, please."

He sighed, and almost turned around. But didn't.

At last Cameron caught up with him, and whirled in front of the blonde, eyes swirling. "Chase, listen to me."

"Cameron, nothing's wrong, why are you chasing me?"

"Don't act like nothing's wrong, Chase, I know you're mad about Cho and me..."

Chase stopped, turned around on his heel, and planted his feet there, facing Cameron. "Mad? Cameron, I'm glad you found a date or two in this guy, there's nothing wrong."

"Oh, sure. So what was that stand-off back there in Jane's room?"

"Stand-off?" Chase thought a moment and shrugged. "Yeah, and?"

"You still gonna say you're not mad?"

"Course."

Cameron's face was annoyed, but then the fire died, and she sighed, shaking her head. Both of them were quiet for a moment. "Okay, you win, Chase. But... if you were mad, then listen."

"Cameron-"

"Listen," she said fiercely. "If you were mad... which you're not, of course... then listen for a second." She took a step closer to Chase, face suddenly unhappy. "I like Cho, he's a great guy. But we both know it's only a two-date  
relationship. I never thought you'd get upset because I-"

"Upset? Cameron-"

"Listen-"

"No, you listen," Chase said simply, hands in his pockets. "Women get upset. Dogs get upset. God gets upset. But men? We're not like that."

Cameron shook her head. "You're too proud, that's what."

Chase rolled his eyes. "Bye, Cameron." He spun around and started walking away, not expecting Cameron to follow him this time.

And she didn't.

Chase sighed. "Upset," he muttered to himself, scoffing. "Women."

The hospital was quiet. He walked around, deciding to go find Cuddy and see if he was needed anywhere, when suddenly, among the quiet, came a soft voice.

He paused, frowning, and glanced around. All the doors were shut, so it couldn't be any patients or doctors he was hearing. He peered around a wall, and saw it opened into a dark storage room. The wooden door was open  
a crack, and he heard the voice coming from there.

Frowning, Chase strained his ears to hear what the voice was saying. It was a female's, and he thought it was familiar somehow.

"... I know, I'm so sorry... I haven't been able to find a spare m- moment, this hospital is crazy," the woman was whispering. Chase realized she must be on a cellphone. But why in a dark storage room?

She whimpered suddenly, and sniffed. "I'm so, so sorry..." Her voice was clipped, like she was crying. "I tried, r- really, but he proved stronger than I thought." She paused, stiffing and coughing. "No, they have no idea..."

She cried again, like a child being shouted at, and Chase's eyes widened. This was growing more interesting by the minute. "Y- yes, sir... look, stop yelling, th- this situation is harder than you think..."

She was quiet, and sniffed. "Of course I'm strong enough to do this, sir. I just need one more day, I s- swear I'll do it by then, I-"

Chase's pager was suddenly beeping loudly. He swore quietly and punched it off, scrambling back from the door when he heard fast footsteps. The door burst open, and Chase saw a brunette girl burst out, face alarmed,  
eyes fiery.

Chase blinked hard, swallowing hard. "Karla?" he realized, eyes wide.

She gazed at Chase, blinking. "Oh..." Her knuckles were white on the cellphone. It was shut. "Hello, Dr. Chase... just making a ph- phone call."

Chase's heart was thudding quickly. "In the... storage room?" he couldn't help but ask.

Karla blinked, and glanced at the dark room. She put her head down, and quietly shut the door. "I wanted privacy."

Chase nodded. "Oh, yeah, that's alright. It's a free country, anyways." He began to walk away.

Karla sighed, face a little stricken. "No. It's really not, you know," she murmured, gripping her cellphone.

Chase blinked. "Right... well, gotta go, I was, uh, paged."

He quickly left, wondering exactly what had just happened.

"This is a pretty place," Cameron remarked as she stepped through the door with Cho.

They were in a new place called The Pepper Cat Cafe. It was more modern than the Igarta, and much more elegant, with marble and mirrors and white tile and flat screen TVs.

"I know," Cho replied with a small smile. They walked up to the man waiting behind a small table, who took table numbers.

"Hello. Welcome to the Pepper Cat Cafe."

"Thanks. We have a reservation for five-thirty, table thirteen?"

The man, head shining and his black goatee gleaming, went through some papers and at last looked back up, green eyes bright. "Ah... Mr. Kimball Cho?:

"That's me."

"Come this way," the man said indifferently as he led Cho and Cameron through the elegant cafe and more towards the back, where it would be more private.

"A waiter will be with you momentarily," the man rumbled, slapped down some menus, and was gone.

Cho glanced around as he took off his coat. Cameron was shedding her own thick jacket.

"That's what they always say," Cho remarked.

Cameron blinked, then realized what he meant, and laughed. "Is that so? Well, what is that coming towards us?"

Cho looked up, and sure enough, a waiter was upon them, this time a young girl with blond hair. He met Cameron's eyes. "I stand corrected," he muttered. She smiled.

"Can I take your order?" the waitress asked in a high voice.

They shuffled their menus, trying to quickly figure out what to get. At last, their dinner was decided, and the waitress closed her leather notebook, nodded, took their menus, and trotted away.

"This is a really nice place, Kimball, thanks for taking me out here," Cameron said, smiling just a bit, as she folded her napkin in her lap.

Cho shrugged. "I'd heard of of it before, figured, why not the Pepper Cat?"

Cameron smiled, and glanced at the spot before her, biting her lip. Cho watched her, knowing he had to say something, remembering all that Rigsby had quickly taught him about dates. "You look pretty tonight," he finally  
managed to say. But he meant it.

Cameron was surprised, and she nodded. "Thank you, that's sweet. You look good tonight, too," she added.

Cho shrugged. "Ah, not really, I just threw this together. I'm not good with dressing up."

Cameron smiled. "Me, either!"

They grew quiet again. Cho cleared his throat.

"So when do you think they'll let Jane go?" he asked.

Cameron scoffed. "By 'they' do you mean House?"

Cho twisted his lips wryly. "Pretty much."

Cameron shook her head. "I dunno... he's such a complicated man. I really don't know why he's keeping Jane at Princeton-Plainsboro like he's a prisoner."

"Well, Jane was beat up, and he fainted..."

"Yeah, but he's shown enormous strength and healing; that guy's strong. He could have died, but he refused to die. That's what I admire about Jane," Cameron added, blinking gently. Cho liked how her eyelashes fluttered as she blinked.

"Now, do you admire something about me?" Cho asked, joking. He couldn't believe how much life Cameron could bring out in him.

Cameron grinned. "Of course I do! Alright, let's see... I admire... ha, I love how you can be so funny. Like, your face is blank, but it makes you more hilarious."

Cho was silent, eyes wide. She'd said she loved something about him. "Oh, well, uh- let me think. My turn? Well... I admire how... you're not like a damsel in distress. You can handle yourself. You don't let too many things get to you; things like House."

Cameron turned her head, eyes thoughtful. "Thank you. That's sweet."

Cho shrugged, embarrassed. He hated showing too much emotion like that. "It's just the truth."

Cameron shook her head, when suddenly the blond waitress was back, and large plates serving their dinner. "There you go, ice water, and coffee... interesting choice for dinner, in any case..." she added dubiously as she gave Cho his coffee and dinner. "Enjoy." As quick as the waitress had come, she was gone.

"Wow," Cameron remarked.

"Great service. Fastest I've ever had," Cho agreed.

They began tucking into their dinner. Cho's mind wasn't on Cameron, though; it was on what had happened in Jane's room that very day.

Cameron must have sensed this, and she sighed, putting her fork down. Now was the time to talk about it. "Cho... I mean, um, Kimball.... look, about what happened today-"

Abruptly, before she could finish talking, her phone was going off. She glanced around as people curiously looked over at her, their dinner interrupted. "Crap, I'm so sorry," she muttered. "I thought I turned the stupid thing off..."

She picked it up and saw the number. "Chase?" she murmured.

Cho pricked his ears. She had said Chase's name in a certain way... he'd never heard before. She'd never said his name like that, either.

"Hello?" Cameron asked as she answered the call. "Chase, you idiot, I'm at dinner, you told the whole cafe I got a call." She stopped, and glanced at Cho, apologetic. He just nodded, like he was fine with it. He didn't want to hurt her feelings.

"Yeah? Well, okay." She laughed suddenly. "Really, Chase? You made me so mad earlier... why couldn't you have just told me that? Boys are such babies, you know that." She bit her lip. "No, I won't... alright, fine, I'm sorry for  
calling you an idiot. Happy? Now get off the phone, I have dinner to eat." She smiled slightly. "Bye, Chase."

She hung up.

"God, Chase can be so stupid sometimes," she sighed as she put the cell away.

Cho stared at her. He was thinking. "What did he want?"

She shook her head, swallowing her ice water. "To annoy me, I think. And it worked."

Cho was quiet. If she was annoyed, why had she sounded so happy on the phone? He knew she hadn't meant to sound happy; she couldn't help it. Sort of like Rigsby couldn't ever help smiling whenever he saw Van Pelt.  
Usually he didn't even realize he was doing it.

Cameron didn't realize how much she'd just hurt Cho. He didn't blame her at all, though. He should have known.

"Kimball? You alright?" she asked, watching him, knowing something wasn't right.

Cho blinked. "Everything's fine," he assured her.

* * *  
"So tell me all about the date, Cho," Rigsby said loudly from the bathroom. He was brushing his teeth, and Cho was in bed, taking off his shoes.

They were back at their hotel, hours after Cho's date with Cameron. Outside, the coldness was thriving in the shadows, painting shivers and coughs all around New Jersey. December was truly here.

Cho sighed. "It was... interesting."

Rigsby rinsed his mouth, then walked into the room in his boxers and a white T-shirt. Cho scrunched up his face.

"That picture will scar me forever," he muttered.

Rigsby just laughed and climbed into his bed. "Don't change the subject. What happened?"

Cho was quiet as he lay back in his own bed, pulling the covers up. "Well..." He stopped. He hated himself for feeling so sad when he said this. "I realized that she's in love with Chase."

Rigsby leaned against his arm, facing Cho from his bed. Their beds were right across from each other. "You can't know that," he disagreed.

Cho rolled his eyes. "Actually, you can."

Rigsby was quiet, wishing he could help his friend. But for the first time in knowing Cho, he knew he was broken, and there was no way to help. Cho had truly cared about Cameron, even though they'd only known each-other  
for a small period of time.

"Well... I guess we can assume that was your last date with her?"

Cho cleared his throat. "Yeah. We, uh... we broke up after dinner had ended."

Rigsby chewed his lip. "That hurts, man. But don't be too upset... it wasn't gonna last, anyways. You guys didn't see each other much outside of the hospital."

Cho glared over at him suddenly. "Upset?"

Rigsby blinked. "Yeah. That a new word for you?"

"I am not upset," he said firmly. "Women get upset. Dogs get upset. God gets upset." He stopped and sighed. "Not men. We're not like that."

With that, he flipped over, and didn't say another word.

Rigsby blinked, and shrugged. "Whatever you say, Cho." And he turned out the lamp. All light died from the room, and shadows became Cho's constant companion.

* * *

**Awh moment for Cho. Poor guy. Thanks to **This Username is Censored **for creating Chameron, the Cho/Camerona pairing. I loved it... while they lasted :(  
**

**And what's up with Karla? There's some weird people out there.  
**


	13. Attack

**Hey! Has it really been about a week? Wow. Doesn't feel like it. Anyways, thank you for all the kind and supportive reviews, you guys are awesome and I hope everyone likes this chapter. Things pick up, and for those that thought Karla's a little sketchy... this is your chapter.**

Did I mention that all of you are awesome? (:

* * *

Chapter Thirteen: Attack

Karla walked quietly through the rooms. She was going around her duties, finishing up feeding and watering patients. It was quiet, and the windows were all blindingly bright, for last night, the skies had offered the first snow of the season.

There wasn't that much, but the soft, delicate flakes of snow fell gently upon New Jersey. She hadn't been in New Jersey for very long; she'd just recently come. Being a new nurse in Princeton-Plainsboro, people were quick to doubt her ability.

But she'd proved them wrong.

Passing several doctors and nurses, Karla finally made her way to Charlize Brennan's room. Karla sighed and smiled, gripping the small bowl of soup and cup on her serving tray, tucking her clipboard under her arm, and stepping into her patient's room.

Charlize looked up when she saw Karla, and smiled. "Oh, Karla, good-morning. I'm surprised to see you so early."

Karla gazed at her patient, smiling. "I'm sure you are. I've brought you breakfast, you know."

Charlize's old blue eyes brightened. "God, I am hungry, thank you."

"How's that throat doing?" Karla asked as she walked over and set the tray down on the middle-aged woman's lap.

"It feels fine, I think I'll be able to leave pretty soon," Charlize replied. "Thanks for asking, though."

Karla smiled sweetly. "I just want to make sure my patients always feel their best."

* * *  
Jane awoke when something hard, like a cane, was being jabbed into his side.

"Get up, Blondie."

Jane sat up, sighing and yawning, blinking at Dr. House. Young rays of light stretched into his room, and he saw with delight that it was finally snowing outside.

"House, morning," he mumbled, yawning again and stretching.

"Yes, hi. Well, I've decided something."

Jane frowned at the older man, who pointed his cane at the night table next to Jane's hospital bed. On it, thrown messily, were Jane's normal clothes.

"You're letting me free?" Jane guessed.

House rolled his eyes. "The clothes were too obvious, huh? Well, yeah, I decided I was sick of you. Oh, and the clothes were folded, but..." He shrugged.

Jane laughed and sat up. "Well... either you got sick of me or Cuddy and Lisbon made you change your mind about keeping me here."

House shrugged. "I prefer the first one, but believe what you want."

Jane got up, feeling like a thousand pound weight was lifted from his shoulders. "Wow. I can't wait to get out of this hospital. And thisgown!" he added, glaring in disgust at the hospital gown. "I hate these things with a passion."

House was leaning against his cane, watching Jane. "Aren't you gonna ask why I kept you here so long?" he inquired.

Jane paused, looking up at House. "I'm not, actually. I already know why."

House made a dramatic gasp of realization, hitting himself on the forehead. "Yes, of course, I forgot, you're a mentathingy."

Jane smiled slightly. "Mentalist."

House shrugged.

"And I know that... you were testing me. You wanted to see how long you could keep me here before I cracked. Before I became... you."

House looked half delighted, half sarcastic. "Wow, welldone." He shook his head and limped towards the door. "But yeah... I guess you're right. I hate you, Blondie, but it's probably because you make me think of... well, me."  
He looked at Jane. "You reminded me of when I was younger, and I didn't want to let you go so soon."

Jane nodded, expression saying a million things. "I know." He met House's gaze for a long, brief moment, and slowly, looked down, and began getting dressed. House looked disgusted, leaving the room without another word.

Suddenly, there was a scream.

"Did someone just look in the mirror?" House muttered.

Jane, who was fully dressed, stumbled towards the door, slapping his shoes on his feet.

"That was Karla," he murmured.

The brunette nurse was running through the hallway, eyes wild, hair flying, pale as a ghost.

"You idiot, stop screaming before I go over there and beat you with this cane!" House shouted.

Jane was quiet, but he tapped House on the shoulder. "Something really is wrong," he murmured.

Karla gasped, chest heaving, eyes blank, as she stumbled over to House and Jane.

"Why would you come over to the man who just threatened you?" House growled.

Karla was gasping, and she shivered, pointing down the hallway. "I- I went into my patient's r- room, and- and-" She began to sob, shaking her head, wailing into her hands.

People were gathering, poking their heads out of rooms. Jane glanced around, and slowly walked towards Karla, patting her on the shoulder and lifting her head. "Karla, relax, breath. We need to know what you found."

Karla shivered. "J- Jane, I- I saw a- a-" She wailed. "A bloody smiley face..."

Jane froze.

Immediately, he was transported to another time, another world. A dark set of stairs, a too-quiet house. A neat, curt, mocking letter taped to a door. Open the door, heart pounding. See the bodies, crumpled and bloody, limp  
and dead... and the smiley face.

A bloody smiley face.

"Red John," he whispered.

House stared at Jane, all cold amusement gone. For the first time in a week and half of knowing Gregory House, Jane saw fear in those old blue eyes.

"The serial killer," House murmured.

Suddenly, Jane was gone. He was running, pelting, heart throbbing. Karla spun around, startled and sobbing, and House watched Jane, unable to think that a serial killer could truly be in his hospital.

Jane thought of nothing, knew nothing. There was a room, down the hallway, people were gathering around it. Slowly, he calmed his pace, and walked, gently, uneasily. He passed through the group of people, all gasping and crying, and he slowly put himself in front of the gathering group.

Red John.

Jane saw the body first. He saw the face of a middle-aged woman with blue eyes. Her face was still curled in shock and terror. She was on the floor; scarlet blood blossomed around her, and her stomach was sliced and butchered, her whole body looking like someone had taken a knife and hastily ripped at her.

And the smiley face.

The bloody smile that haunted Jane's dreams, his past, his present, and his future.

It stared at Jane as he slowly stepped into the murder scene, his face set, his eyes cold. The smile mocked him, blood still dripping gently down the blank hospital wall.

There were racing feet, and suddenly the group parted as Rigsby, leading Cho, Van Pelt, and Lisbon, all froze at the face of the room.

"Red John," Rigsby said, voice clipped.

Jane was silent. There was a flame inside him. An angry, burning rage, a hate he had tried to channel, tried to calm. But now, it was engulfing him, it was making his vision red...

He didn't even realize Lisbon was next to him until he felt her light touch. He thought of her confession; of the sad truth, of how she felt about him. And he didn't care. Nothing mattered. This was his past mocking him, and his future standing right next to him.

"Oh, Jane..." she said, voice trembling. She was as frightened as he was. But his fright was burning into anger.

"Red John was here?" Cho asked, voice cold.

"How could he have slipped in?" Van Pelt inquired hoarsely.

"And why did he kill... her? We don't even know her," Rigsby asked quietly, gazing at the dead body of the woman. Doctors and nurses were beginning to seep in, to clean up the horrible mess. The police had been called.  
Jane could hear their sirens outside the hospital, growing ever closer from the snowy day outside these walls.

Jane shook his head, arms folded, voice hard. "Red John did not murder this woman."

Cho glanced at him, then at the bloody smile on the wall. "Then... what about the smile? Is it another faker?"

Jane shook his head once again. "No. He didn't directly murder this woman, but he had someone else do it. Someone here. And that person is still here." 


	14. Wildfire

**Chapter Fourteen: Wildfire**

* * *

  
Lisbon's eyes were wide, and she glanced at her team. "Are you sure?"

"Positive." Jane's eyes didn't miss a single small detail as he gazed at the smile. "I know Red John's work; these were not his hands that took her life, that made this smile." He turned away.

"How could the killer have done this so fast, and without anyone knowing? It doesn't seem possible," Cho pointed out, voice firm and alarmed. The whole team felt fear, but their determination to find the killer was more powerful.

"They managed."

"So the killer's still here?" Van Pelt asked softly, gazing at each of the doctors and nurses as they passed.

"Yes, they want to see what their work has caused. And we need to be aware, because this murder... it was a warning. Something to get our attention. They've planned something much bigger," Jane said shortly, steps long and firm.

"Alright, we'll split up. Rigsby, you're with me. Cho, go with Van Pelt. The police may be here, but we're the CBI, and we've dealt with Red John before. We need to hunt; leave no stone unturned," she called out, nodding to Rigsby.

"Jane, are you coming with us?" Cho asked loudly as the team began to break up. Lisbon paused, and looked at Jane.

Jane's face was empty of his usual glow. His eyes were dead and cold, like a wolf's before the hunt, and his knuckles were white. "I'm going to search for the killer on my own," he said firmly.

"No, you're not," Lisbon said quickly, shortly, walking up to Jane. He faced her, but didn't see her. "Jane, listen to me. This killer's probably Red John's right hand-man, and means business. Last time you went off alone, you  
were attacked, and I promised you I'd never let you get hurt again. And I intend to keep that promise. You're coming with one of us."

"No," Jane said simply. "Lisbon, you can't control me. Red John is mine, you know it."

"I'm not letting you come up with some stupid plan and get yourself killed! And this isn't even Red John, you said it yourself."

"It's close enough. Now go, we're wasting time," Jane told her, waving the other three off.

"Jane, stop!" Lisbon cried.

He ran off in the other direction, and she stared after him, between him and Rigsby, and bit her lip. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She had no choice.

She left with Rigsby.

"A lockdown is immediately being activated around the hospital; please remain calm, and do not go off alone, a patient has been found murdered, possibly by the infamous serial killer Red John..." The hospital speakers  
crackled around the building, alerting everyone. The news spread like wildfire.

The hospital was in a state of shock. Who'd ever heard of something being murdered in a hospital? It was so bizarre and unbelievable that most of the doctors and nurses didn't believe it; that is, until they saw the police officers and hospital security trailing the halls, searching for the killer.

Operations? Surgeries? Confusion was the gas for the flame that engulfed the building, panic and fear coating the air like fog.

Lisa Cuddy and James Wilson were busy trying to calm people and sort out the millions of problems that instantly shot up around them, taking calls and urging everyone to not scream, not to run around, to stay in their rooms...

As soon as Chase, who had just finished up a check-up with a girl and her over-bearing mother, heard the news of a possible killer in the building, all he could think of was Cameron.

He quickly walked through the halls, trying to page her, call her, but she never answered. In his haste and the craziness of the hospital, he didn't realize House was in front of him until he'd knocked him down.

"You idiot!" House snapped, mumbling and looking around for his cane, which had been tossed across the sickly-colored tiles.

"I'm sorry, I was looking for Cameron," Chase said sharply.

House sighed, and heard a sudden thud when a distracted doctor tripped on House's cane. He landed with a harsh bump, and groaned, swearing.

House let out a dramatic sigh, rounding on Chase. "Just look what you did!"

Chase glared at House, and quickly walked across the hallway. But the doctor got up before Chase made it to him, and the stampede of nurses and doctors didn't cease, as someone trampled over the cane and kicked it even further across the floor.

"Oh, god," House grumbled, beginning to get up.

As Chase finally grabbed the stupid cane and was walking back across the room to throw it at House, someone quickly walked through. He realized it was Karla, and he immediately remembered the strange call in the storage room...

"Karla, what are you doing alone?" Chase asked as he tossed the cane at House, who grumbled and got up, limping over to stand by Chase.

Karla, who had been the person to discover the dead patient's body, didn't look scared or distressed at all. House noticed how she no longer sobbed, and she looked perfectly fine.

"Alone?" Karla asked. "Oh, are you guys really worried about the killer still being here?"

Chase glanced at House. "Um, yeah."

To his shock, Karla just laughed lightly, shaking her head. "You're hilarious Chase. Look, I'm sure they're gone."

"But... that's foolish, it doesn't help. There's still a patient murdered," Chase said shakily.

House shook his head. "Allow me to translate what Chase is trying to say... you dumbass, why aren't you terrified like you should be?"

Karla blinked, but didn't seem offended by House's words. "Maybe you shouldn't be scared," she said shortly, and as soon as she'd been there, she was gone.

Chase and House stared after her.

"Well, she's gonna get killed," House said with a shrug.

* * *

**Wow! That was super short for me! More to come. Tell me what you think... about the story, about Charlize Brennan's killer, about Karla... Thanks for reading and reviewing. You all make me feel so loved! See ya, love ya. I'll update as soon as possible. And luckily, tomorrow is literally the last day of school (yes!) so lots of time to write for you all. Bye!**

~Sarafina


	15. Scarlet Blood

**Hey guys. I know I'm updating early but I've had nothing to do all day. My day was ruined at eight this morning when I found my cat dead on the road. I knew I couldn't cry the day way, so I wrote. Writing helps me. And this is what a day of writing has made. I hope you like it. If you've lost someone you love, you know exactly what this heart-breaking, hollow feeling is like. If you haven't, then count your blessings. It's just as dramatic and pathetic as it's portrayed in those cheesy animal movies.**

* * *

Chapter Fifteen: Scarlet Blood

Jane strutted down the halls, face cold. He had a good idea about what was going on. He just needed to get back to his room, he had a feeling about that place.

But it was hard to walk. Red John. That name hadn't stirred his waking world for a long time; the faceless man had tripped through his nightmares, danced in the shadows, thrived in the thunder-storms...

And now, Jane couldn't stop thinking about them. About his wife... about his daughter... Every time he thought of their faces, their laughter, their hugs, a flash of lightning shredded his mind as they became those limp, bloody, torn bodies, crumpled against the wall in the room at the top of the stairs, behind a piece of paper taped against the door, under a bloody smiley face...

He walked, face set, mind spinning. So many names flitted through his head, old memories, broken nightmares yet to come-

Jane turned a corner, and recognized the pale wall of his old hospital room. Heard beginning to race, he quickly ran in, and stopped dead when a gun suddenly cocked in his face.

Jane froze, eyes blank, face shocked, as he slowly scrambled back, staring into the face of the girl who was aiming a small gun at his face. She was tall and thin, and a brunette... not a blond...

"Karla." Jane said just one word, a single word. A name. The name of the girl who was pointing a gun at him.

"Patrick Jane," Karla Sheppard whispered back, face cold as she took a step around Jane, gun held firm and high. "You don't know how long I've waited for this moment."

Jane slowly raised his hands. His heart was a stone in his chest, thudding noisily, the blood roaring in his ears. "I thought it was you," he murmured.

Karla chuckled humorlessly, eyes narrowing, face suddenly gaunt. "He'll be so proud... Karla Sheppard, the girl who finally caught the man he hates most..."

"Who, Karla? What man?" Jane demanded, voice almost calm.

Karla chuckled. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Jane took a step back, eyes swirling. "But I already do know. At least, the name he was given by his victims." He paused, a shiver clawing his spine. "Red John."

Karla grinned.

"I'm the reason you're here, Patrick Jane," she whispered, voice tense. "I have eyes and ears everywhere. I was able to create the false wedding invitation... but I never dreamed Lisbon would fall for it that easily. Nor did I imagine you'd come so easily. You didn't suspect a thing. You fool." She shook her head. "I'm very lucky. It worked out beautifully."

"And Rigsby being car-sick... that was the cab driver. He must have offered Rigsby poisoned food."

"Like I said, I have eyes and ears everywhere." She frowned suddenly. "And then... do you remember what happened? You nearly foiled my plan, Patrick Jane. You survived the beating."

Jane's mind was beginning to race as he connected the dots. It made sense now. Of course... Karla had planned the attack that night... He smiled slightly. "Yes. I was lucky then, wasn't I?"

Karla shook her head, gun still raised, eyes glittering like a hunter's. She said nothing. Her fingers shivered on the trigger, and Jane swallowed hard, knowing his time to escape this was dwindling.

"But that wasn't the only time I escaped. You never planned for me to come here, but you saw another chance to get rid of me for Red John. You wanted to poison me."

Karla smiled broadly. "Oh... well, yes, I tried. But it was half-hearted, really; what a boring way to die. Poison?" She scoffed. "Much more interesting to die by a single bullet." She tapped the gun thoughtfully. "Or two."

She lunged at Jane, and he jumped back, eyes frightened for once. He remained utterly calm, though. He had to. It was the only thing that could keep him alive. "Police. Doctors. They will come. They will realize you've been working against them. Against everyone."

"They won't be here in time to save you, I'm afraid," Karla retorted, twisting the gun and face warping as she prepared to finally shoot.

Jane scrambled aside, heart racing. He wanted to know the truth. Everything. He had to. He could feel his thirst making his insides burn. Red John. The man who had haunted his dreams was close... so ever close... tantalizingly out of reach, behind a thin wall of glass-

"What did he offer you, Karla?" Jane asked quickly.

Karla snorted. "Like I'd tell you. This has taken longer than it should. You need to die today, Patrick Jane."

Jane shook his head, lowering his arms, and swallowing hard. "Karla, listen. Please, I need to know."

Karla hesitated, then seemed to bare her teeth. "He offered me money, okay? A lot of it. And love. He's a great man, you know. Red John..." She laughed. "Funny name, really. Too bad you'll never know the name he was was born by..."

"You've been working with him all along?" Excitement pounded in Jane's heart. Yes, so close, he knew it..."Karla, why is a patient dead? Why did you make his smiley face? Is Red John... here?"

Karla laughed bitterly. "I never killed that old hag. Charlize Brennan. Ha." She slowly shook her head. "I fed her the poison that almost killed you. And he finished the job." She paused. "It was a warning. He was tired, he wanted your attention. He was here, Patrick Jane. But it was strange." She cocked her head, and for a brief second, seemed genuinely puzzled. "He didn't want to face you himself. Almost like he wasn't ready."

Jane shivered. Red John had been in this hospital. He couldn't believe any of it.

Karla recovered, and her eyes were glittering again. "But he did tell me to finally finish you off. I disappointed him once, twice, but not now. I want to kill you now."

Jane paused, gazing into Karla Sheppard's eyes. "If you truly wanted me dead, Karla, then I would not be speaking right now. I'd be in a pool of blood."

Karla's grip on the gun wavered for a fraction of a second, then she snarled, "I will not disappoint Red John again!"

"He offers money. He offers love. But he is a bitter shell, Karla. He cannot love. He will never give up wealth. Listen to me- you are a good person, you don't want to get caught up in this business. Now put down the gun... and we can work together. We can stop Red John."

"Stop him?" Karla echoed, laughing. "Why would I want to do that? I love him. We're meant to be together like this. And you, Patrick Jane, are meant to meet your disgusting family in hell." She smiled, the smile of a skeleton, a shadow, a scream.

Abruptly, a deep rage settled in Jane's heart, and he quietly looked at Karla. "I'm living my hell," he whispered, the voice of a heart-broken man, a father who'd lost his only child, a husband who could never love again after losing his wife to a serial killer...

Abruptly, there were screams, and shouts. Chase was suddenly there, eyes determined, face cold, and there were others. Police.

A look of horror crossed Karla's face. She screamed. A gun went off. Somebody fell to the floor.

Patrick Jane fell down, heart slowing, things blurry, as he stared in shock as police swam into the room, shouting and aiming their guns. They grabbed at Karla, voices furious. "You are under arrest! You have the right to  
remain silent, anything you do say will be held against you in a court of law..."

* * *

**So it was Karla after all. I know a lot of you were putting your bets on her, and you were right. I hope you liked it. Please have thoughts tonight for my cat, if you have a heart.**


	16. Silver Handcuffs

**Chapter Sixteen: Silver Handcuffs**

* * *

Patrick Jane sat at the glass table in House's office. The rest of the CBI team and House himself were in the room. No one said anything. They weren't really sure what to say.

It was half an hour after Karla Sheppard had been arrested. She'd been led away in silver handcuffs, crying and yelling. She was now on her way to the police station.

But things were far from being solved. In her sudden attack left a wave of confusion and mass grief... a patient had been claimed by Red John, and the true killer had gotten away... slipped from their grasp like smoke. They'd almost had him... he could have been anyone in the hospital, anyone at all. They'd been so close... and he's gotten out. Probably moments before the hospital went into a lock-down.

House broke the silence first. "I have to say, this would make an epic novel."

Lisbon just glanced at him, face bleak. She was sitting on a stiff chair in House's office, face blank. And Jane? Patrick Jane was standing by the window, staring out, hands folded neatly behind his back.

He couldn't bear to look at anyone. His heart was a storm, his eyes a swirling mass of fury and loss. So many times... so many times he'd come close to finally catching Red John. His pain-filled mind recalled Bosco's old secretary, Rebecca. She, too, had thought she loved Red John. But now she was dead because of her loyalty to him.

And before her... Sheriff Hardy, rather known as Dumar. And the farm... where a girl had almost died, where Jane had killed for the first time... He cringed, bitterly remembering how Dumar had almost shot Lisbon, and he, in turn, had instinctively tried to protect Lisbon.

Of course... and Rosalind Harker, the blind woman who had somehow cared for this Red John, with no idea of his real personality.

Three people. Three strikes. You're out, Jane thought bitterly.

And now one more. One more person connected to the man Jane hated more than life, more than all the evil in the world, more than death. With any luck, she could bring some light into the Red John mystery.  
But something would happen.

"Something always happens," Jane muttered, still gazing out the window.

Lisbon sighed and blinked, biting her lip. "Jane... are you feeling any better?" she asked softly, for perhaps the hundredth time.

Jane shook his head. "Not really," he said quietly.

Lisbon rubbed her arm, and looked across at House. "I still can't believe all of this really... happened. Again." She sighed.

House glanced between the two. "Well, by all means, start taking out your frustration in my office."

Jane turned around suddenly, walking briskly, face empty. "How long did Karla work for Princeton-Plainsboro?"

House sighed. "Not very long. She just showed up a few months back. And if you're going to play hundred questions-"

"I can't believe she worked here while linked to Red John, and no one had any idea. She worked well. Too well," Jane murmured.

"Wait, okay, so this nurse hooked up with Red John, got interested in his bloody hobbies, and agreed to help him find you?" House drawled.

Jane hesitated, ignoring House's dry tone. Lisbon was quiet, just listening and watching with glassy eyes. "I think that's more or less what happened," he murmured.

House sighed, shaggy face looking even more tired than usual. "Pretty far-fetched scheme. Drag you to her... why didn't she just go to California? It would have been easier for her to lure you guys away, you know."

Lisbon spoke up for the first time. "Perhaps she thought if we weren't in our familiar surroundings, it would be easier to..." Her voice faltered, and she bit her lip.

Jane went on. "Karla is the one who attacked me. She made sure our cabs pulled over, and made sure I went off alone. She's been controlling everything. Everyone," he added faintly.

House blinked. "It's the kind of story that makes you want to lock your door and never leave your home again, that's what."

Lisbon just sighed, rubbing at her eyes. "The hardest part is that Red John was... here. He killed Charlize Brennan with no apparent hostility towards her... it was random, and he just... wanted to capture Jane's attention."

"Pretty blunt way to do it. Couldn't he have just done a smoke-signal?" House inquired flatly.

Jane did not respond at once. "Come on. This is Red John we're talking about, after all." He scoffed and tucked his hands in his pockets, eyes swirling.

Lisbon looked at Jane. "Well, what are we going to do now?"

House spoke first, putting his feet up on his desk with some effort. "Getting out of my office would be a good start."

Jane rubbed his arm, ignoring House. "I guess... we're going home."

* * *  
Even the snow outside the cold windows seemed dull to Rigsby. He was in his room at the hotel, packing his and Cho's bags. Lisbon had made just minutes ago that they were leaving.

What a strange, twisted trip. Rigsby felt like it belonged more in a thriller book's summary than in his own life. He hated it. In a matter of hours, their trip had been broken apart and pieced into a puzzle that drew an ugly, yet memorable picture. Who would have guessed Red John haunted them, even as far away as in New Jersey? And that he could have eyes and ears like Karla working under their very noses.

They had almost lost Jane. Again. He'd been at gunpoint, she'd almost shot him. If Jane hadn't kept her talking... Rigsby shuddered away from finishing that thought.

And as for Red John? Well. That was just a sad, epic story. They'd had another dangerous brush with the infamous killer... and had lost. They'd missed him. But they did have one thing.

Karla.

She was what Dumar hadn't been. The answer. Dumar had been killed; by Jane, ironically. But Karla was in no danger; she would surely tell the CBI everything about Red John. Then they could find him, catch him, put him behind rusting bars in a dying jail, or even to his well-deserved death.

Rigsby sighed as he stuffed a shirt into his pack.

He knew it was too good to be true. Red John was like smoke. It was impossible to truly capture it and break it. They needed a miracle to find Red John.

And with the recent unlucky turn of events, miracles were hard to come by.

Rigsby shook his head. Besides... something always happens.

There suddenly came a quiet knock at his hotel door. It rattled the uneasy silence that had been stifling Rigsby, and he wondered who could be at the door. He was at it in three striding steps, and twisted the long knob. With a creak, his door swung open, to reveal a slender red-headed girl standing patiently in front of him.

He stared at her. "Grace!"

Grace Van Pelt smiled slightly. "That's my name."

Rigsby blinked, putting a hand on his waist. "What's going on? How's the- uh, team?"

Van Pelt's eyes shone shrewdly out at Rigsby. "If by 'team' you mean me, then yes, I guess I'm fine. Considering Red John slipped right under our noses and a hospital patient was murdered on our watch."

Rigsby swallowed. They said nothing for a moment, then Van Pelt said, "Look, it's... Lisbon. She spoke to me just now. She... she's willing to forget about the... you know, underwear incident."

The tall man took in a shallow breath, relief making his heart thud. The underwear incident... god, that felt years away. He had lost track of the days. Time didn't seem to matter as much anymore.

But Van Pelt wasn't done. "She said she feels like it would be unfair of her to get us in trouble for something she isn't innocent of."

"What?"Rigsby couldn't help but blurt.

Van Pelt sighed, frustrated. "Wayne, think."

He was quiet for a moment. Slowly, an image of Lisbon's overly-concerned face for a certain blond consultant tripped into his mind. "You don't suppose she..." He couldn't bring himself to finish his sentence.

Van Pelt was quiet. "Yeah. I think so."

They were silent.

"I hope she knows what she's doing," Rigsby admitted, reaching out and touching Van Pelt's face. She gazed up at him, a deep fondness in her gaze that made his fingers tingle.

"I hope we know what we're doing," she countered softly, stepping into his room and sliding her hand across his chest.

Rigsby smiled gently. "Of course we don't. That's what makes it fun," he joked softly.

Van Pelt didn't smile, just put her head on his chest. "Wayne..." she whispered after a moment.

"I was so scared today... I was scared for you. I thought about... if the killer found you..."

Rigsby put his chin on her head, eyes flickering. "I was scared, too. I... I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

Van Pelt smiled ever so slightly into his chest as Rigsby shut their door.__

* * *

**Hey all! Thanks for all the reviews! It's awesome to get feedback after a chapter; all I can say is, things may seem like they're winding down, but there's a lot more... (;**__

**And I know, I updated early again... I just cant wait to get these chapters at all of you. I hope you dont mind my quick updates...**_  
_


	17. Killer Lost

**Chapter Seventeen: Killer Lost**

* * *

The world was blanketed with a fluffy, white cover that stretched as far as the eye could see. The white hills and trees of New Jersey seemed to blend with the pale, cloudless sky, as cold winds whispered through the streets and past the buildings.

But it was empty and sad, with a strange silence yawning over it. It was like the whole world was grieving for the loss of the patient, and for losing Red John again. There was a silent hole gaping in the sky that was as dark and confused as Patrick Jane's heart.

He walked quietly over the sidewalk. He was outside, in the quiet, cold December air. A few cars sometimes passed by, windows dark, rubber tires leaving ugly marks in the soft snow.

No humans walked about. It was like all the people were sleeping, snug and safe in their beds, with loved ones and a crackling fire in the fireplace.

Jane longed to be one of those people. As he softly padded under trees heavy with snow, and past wooden benches and stone statues piled with a soft layer of the fluffy white stuff, it was like he was in his own little snow globe, and all was safe and content.

As Jane walked past a happy-looking home, painted gently, with lights raining from it, he gazed into the glass windows as he passed, decorated with cut-out ginger-bread men and Christmas flowers. He knew there was a family there. Happy, loving. No real problems.

What would he have sacrificed to be that happy. To lift this murky, overwhelming burden from his shoulders, to douse the cold flames in his heart. He was the angriest, loneliest man in his snow globe. He knew it as a fact.

It was mere hours after Karla Sheppard had been arrested. As far as he knew, she was at the police station. The whole ugly mass of court and law would soon begin. Would Karla be charged with anything? Would justice ring?

Jane sighed. Only the heavens knew. And there was no heaven.

His feet, cold and tired, ached for a rest, and Jane glanced around, spotting a bench. He trotted slowly through the bright snow to reach it, and he bent over, easily brushing it away, and sitting down. He gazed around.

It was snowy, cold, and silent.

Suddenly, there were soft footsteps, and Jane glanced around. Through the misty snow, he saw a dark-haired girl walking up to him.

His eyes widened when he realized it was Lisbon.

"Boss," he quietly greeted her, face blank. "What's up?"

Teresa Lisbon was quiet. She swallowed, and shrugged, brushed away the snow and sat down next to Jane. She looked across at him. "I came to find you because... because..." She shivered.

Jane nodded, although he barely understood, and silently looked down. His curly blond hair seemed darker, and his face was more hollow, somehow. But Lisbon still thought he looked handsome. She bit her lip, grief washing over her. She wished more than anything that she didn't have these feelings crushing her insides. It was too painful.

Jane looked over at Lisbon. "What is it?" he asked, voice gentle.

Lisbon blinked quickly, looking over the snowy bench to gaze into his sad eyes. "What?"

"You're unhappy."

Lisbon scoffed quietly. "Course I am. We... we've lost the case. We lost Red John."

Jane sat up suddenly, staring at her, eyes intense. "You know something."

Lisbon's eyes were glassy as she shook her head, biting her lip. An utter feeling of loss seemed to bitterly kick her in the stomach. "It's Karla." She stopped.

Jane gazed at her, eyes flaming. "What? What's happened?"

Lisbon stared at her hands. She did not speak for a long second, and her chest felt crushed. "Karla's dead."

Patrick Jane just stared at her, unblinking. No. Shock tore at his heart, and his eyes burned. "Impossible," he breathed.

Lisbon took a shaky breath, and Jane saw how upset she was by this. "I just got a call from the police station. They... they put her in a room before she got her first call... and they weren't watching her carefully enough. She used what she had..." Lisbon shook her head. "She- she didn't want to talk."

Jane looked at Lisbon through blind eyes. A falling sensation washed over his numb body, and he shivered, something wet and bitter clawing at his eyes. All his nightmares, all he'd ever imagined... was falling on him,  
crushing him. His last chance at Red John. Gone. Again.

Again.

"No!" Jane hissed, unimaginable fury and grief crashing over him as he stood up, heart racing, fists thrashing, vision red in vain. How could this happen? Why him? Why couldn't he ever have something good happen?

"Jane, stop!" Lisbon cried.

Jane was silent, broken, beaten, walking blindly through the snowy road. He was just lucky the snow kept the cars asleep; no one could threaten him in the street today. Lisbon ran quickly after him, her coat flapping, eyes anxious, as she gripped his shoulders, and guided him to the other side of the street.

"I don't understand why we keep losing," Jane murmured. His anger was gone. His grief gone. He felt nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Lisbon shivered as a cold wind whispered around them. "Oh, Jane..." Her voice grew too soft to hear, and a single tear dripped down her chin. She knew they had lost this time.

"We'll never find him," Jane said quietly.

Lisbon stopped, and slowly, yet steadily, turned around to face him. "Patrick," she spoke, her voice shaking, yet her eyes were sad and clear. "Listen... we... we lost Karla. We've lost others. But the battle is not lost. He's still out there." She shuddered at the thought, but went on. "That is our fire. He's the reason we're here. And we... we can't give up. Not after all we've done."

Jane gazed into Lisbon's eyes. She had changed. This trip had done so much to her... for better or worse. She had grown up, and had seen so much.

And he knew she was right.

Quietly, he placed a hand on her shoulder, face serious, eyes swirling.

"Thank you," he told her briefly. But it was the most honest, heart-felt thing he'd ever said to Lisbon.

She did not move for a second, and finally nodded.

At last, they were walking again. Slowly, carefully. They did not know where they were walking, or how long they'd be out there, but it didn't matter. They were going somewhere. And that was what truly mattered.

* * *

**Wow, am I spoiling all you kids or what? Let's just say I've splurged on writing lately; here's what I get. I hope Karla's suicide wasn't too predictable, or too cruel, in your opinion: I mean, come on. Jane can never have his answers. It's just the unfair way of the world.**

**Anyhoo, thanks for the reviews, you've all been amazing! This was a hard chapter to write, not only because of its depth but its delicate topic used- suicide- and I hope it's okay! Well... I'll update sooner than later, probably, so be on the look-out for me...**


	18. I Don't Do Hugs

**Chapter Eighteen: I Don't Do Hugs**

* * *

Rigsby sat quietly. He was in the lobby with Cho and Van Pelt. The hospital was scurrying with police and news casters, eager to get the new, startling chapter in the tale of Red John.

It was the morning after they'd found out about Karla Sheppard's suicide. Last night had been... confusing. Everything Rigsby had done, it had felt dull and blank. He'd been through so many cases like this- why had this one changed him so much?

Rigsby felt a twinge of sadness. He knew why.

This was perhaps the closest they'd ever gotten to Red John. There was proof he'd been at the hospital; they'd been so close. Maybe they'd even seen him, and not realized it was Jane's bitterest enemy.

And then there was the loss. One innocent patient, dead. And yet another woman dead- Karla. Another foolish, in love, money-greedy girl who'd fallen into the trap of the serial killer, who'd allowed herself to think everything was okay.

Rigsby felt a hand on his, and he slowly looked up. Van Pelt, face sorrowful, smiled slightly at him, sympathetically, supportively. Her eyes gazed gently at him.

Across from the sitting couple, sitting alone, was Cho. He gazed at their clasped hands, hand propping up his head. Nothing will be able to keep them apart when we get back, he thought, sighing. Seeing Rigsby and Van  
Pelt together like this made his own heart pool with sadness. He wished he'd gotten that close with Cameron. But it wasn't meant to happen.

Several yards away, amid nurses wildly taking phone-calls, papers shuffling and pens dropping, stood Lisa Cuddy. Her curly black hair seemed more wild this morning, and she stared at the three somber CBI agent, face sad.

"How long are they going to stay here?" a nurse murmured into Cuddy's ear. She glanced over, startled for a moment, to see a short blond gazing at her, the sadness in Cuddy's eyes mirrored in this girl's green eyes.

Cuddy sighed, and glanced over at the agents again, shaking her head. "As long as they want to, I suppose."

The nurse frowned thoughtfully. "Where are the others, though? The head, that black-haired lady, and then the hero... Patrick Jane, is it?"

Cuddy blinked. Hero? She hadn't witnessed what had happened in her hospital, and only heard the truth trickling down: about Patrick's blood-stained history, an infamous serial killer following him, and somehow, the CBI team clashing with Red John and all of them winding up in a drama at Princeton-Plainsboro.

But the most shocking part about the whole story was definitely the fact that one of Red John's lovers and accomplices worked at the hospital: Karla Sheppard. Cuddy guessed it had been a plan forged far before anything happened, and Karla's whole job here had been a mere set-up, a small step in the deadly game this Red John had decided to play.

Odd place to have such a climax. A hospital. The place where wounds are healed.

"Cuddy?" the nurse prompted uncertainly.

Cuddy shook herself, realizing she'd gotten carried away in her thoughts. "The woman- her name's Lisbon. And as for her and Jane- I've no idea where they are. Now, please, I've got a lot of work to do." She felt terrible about the loss of their patient, and knew there would be serious issues facing the hospital, including allowing a criminal work as a nurse, letting a patient be murdered on their watch, and pretty much every other offense the public could think of. So yes, the words "a lot of work to do" barely summed up the horrible mass of problems Cuddy had to begin scraping through, trying to find out how she could get her hospital through without facing a hundred lawsuits.

"Oh- oh, okay," the nurse replied, backing away, and beginning to work in the blur of other nurses.

Cuddy sighed, sinking into a chair behind the large, smooth desk. Why us?

* * *  
Patrick Jane was standing, quiet.

He was in his old hospital room. It was eerily quiet, and the room, cleaned by the nurses, was crisp and curt, ready to accept a new patient.

He was back in his normal clothes, his favorite three-piece suit. His jacket tucked carelessly through his arm, his hands in his pockets. His green eyes gazed at the bed, and he stood, silent.

The hospital faced being closed. Murder in their own room? It was death to a hospital. But Cuddy and House were strong. He had a feeling, somehow, Princeton-Plainsboro would recover.

He blinked slowly, narrowing his eyes.

Lisbon had checked them out from their hotel. As for the rest of the team? He knew they were waiting for him. Waiting for the sign that, finally, it was time to leave New Jersey.

Jane took a step back, and stretched his arms, shrugging into his jacket, and tucking it properly around his body, and silently turned away, stepping quietly from the room, slipping his hands in his pockets. He didn't dare look  
back at the room. It held a chasm of memories he preferred to forget.

The blond walking silently through the hospital. It was swarmed, of course, by the police, and the media. Everyone would love this new, shocking piece. But they wouldn't understand it.

Not really.

Because as the confusing memories swirled in Patrick Jane's mind; the cold-blooded, twisted plan, the clever plotting, the vicious attack; he knew he didn't truly understand it.

Feet making empty echoes over the plain hallway, Jane slowed as he knew he was coming towards Gregory House's office. He paused, and, sure enough, found himself gazing into the dark silver reflection of himself in the glass of a door, the cold ink on the door identifying the office to be House's.

Jane peered into the glass; inside, the room was dark and motionless, but his eyes didn't miss the blur of a ball being thrown into the air, caught by old, tired hands, and thrown up yet again.

Without hesitating, Jane put a hand on the door, and gently pushed his way into the office.

House, tossing and catching the small ball into the air, didn't stop when his old patient entered. "Doesn't anyone knock anymore?" he asked clearly, voice rough.

Jane ambled up to House's desk, glancing around. "I didn't think friends needed to knock."

House chuckled, finally throwing the ball up the last time before catching it in his rough hands and pausing, looking up at House, blue eyes dull. "When did we become friends?"

"Probably somewhere along the line where you saved me life," Jane replied coolly, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully at House. "Then again, you don't have many friends, do you, House?"

House, who'd been sitting lazily in his chair, tipped back, his sneakers crossed on his glass desk, sighed and slowly pulled his feet down, feigned an offended look. "How many times do I have to tell you- don't tease me about being socially rejected!" His hands moved almost robotically towards his pocket, where a small orange tube rattled with little white pills. Jane looked away; despite his rough admiration for the doctor, he hated House's addiction.

Forcing a chuckle, colorless and without humor, Jane glanced back up after House had swallowed. The blondie's eyes were quiet, pondering, and dark. "Always the funny man, House."

House scoffed, and straightened in his chair, frowning at Jane. "What are you here for? You're healed; why don't you buzz off?"

Jane sighed, kicking his shoe. "I wanted to say good-bye. Though I'm not sure why; you'll only mock me scornfully."

House flashed a rare smile. "You know me too well," he rasped.

Jane took a step back, pondering his next words. "This has been... an incredibly odd trip... but I have to give Karla credit. If she'd never plotted with Red John, we'd have never met." His tone was light and mild, but House  
didn't miss the caverns of obsessed grief in the consultant's eyes. In his own way, he was grieving for the loss of his latest key to Red John.

"I think I could have slept alright with the knowledge I never met you," House replied, voice flat.

Jane blinked at him, face saying so many things, before taking a step towards House. "But you saved my life. I owe you that."

"You don't owe me anything. It's because of you my hospital almost got shut down," House growled, staring intensely at Jane.

Jane just smiled slightly, and shrugged. "Sorry about that bit." He cocked his head at House. "Well, I think this is good-bye. I doubt our paths will cross again."

House sat in his chair, shrugged, and finally got up, offering his hand after a moment's hesitation.

When Jane didn't take it, and instead opened his arms wide, face suddenly shining, House took a step back, glaring at him.

"I don't do hugs, Blondie," he snapped.

Jane's smile grew a little wider. "Oh, me either. It would be nasty if you did."

House sighed, rolling his eyes. "I fell into that one, huh?"

Abruptly, Jane reached across the table, and spread his arms around House, giving the doctor the hug he didn't want. House struggled a bit, and Jane just chuckled, and leaned towards the old doctor's ear.

"Remember to keep those you love close to your heart, Gregory House," he murmured, smile suddenly turning into a sad, quiet line. "They don't stick around as long as you think."

With that, he released House from his embrace, and smiled, eyes crinkling, his enthusiasm trickling back. House stared at him, expression unfathomable, and swallowed hard.

"See ya, Blondie," he said shortly as Jane turned around, and was at the glass door. The consultant turned, and lifted his hand briefly. "And stay out of my hospital!" House shouted after him as the blonde slipped out of the glass door.

Jane grinned and glanced towards the office as he began walking away. "No promises," he called through the glass before turning the corner, and was gone.

* * *

**I don't know about you, but I enjoyed this chapter. It was bittersweet to write... it's some of the last we'll see of House. I guess it's time to break the news; there's only a couple more chapters planned. I'll update as soon as I can get to some writing, but until then, enjoy (:**


	19. Looking Back

**Chapter Nineteen: Looking Back  


* * *

**Cho looked up when he heard slow footsteps echoing across the lobby; over the voices of the many police-officers, shrill phone calls, and nurses talking urgently, came Patrick Jane, his face thoughtful, hands quietly in his pockets.

Rigsby, who'd been holding Van Pelt's hand as they all sat silently on the waiting chairs, stood up slowly, uncertainly looking at Jane. Slowly, Cho and Van Pelt followed suit.

"Are we going?" Rigsby asked for the team.

Jane blinked, and swept his gaze over them quickly. "I think so. We have to find Lisbon first, though." Something flickered in his eyes when he said her name.

"Oh-" Van Pelt said suddenly, red hair cascading over her shoulders. "She told me to tell you that she's gone to say good-bye to her brother."

Jane chuckled darkly. "Yes. The very reason we came her at all."

Someone suddenly called out Jane's name, and he turned, knowing who it was. Walking quickly from the dark hallway and nearing the CBI team was Foreman, Chase, and Cameron. Cho averted his eyes when he saw  
Cameron, and Rigsby glanced at his friend, eyes sympathetic.

"We wanted to say goodbye," Chase quickly said as they drew up. "I mean... your being here has really changed things."

"We'll miss all the excitement when you all are gone," Foreman added, putting his hands on his waist.

Jane just smiled. "I'm sure you'll cope."

Cameron hadn't said anything, and as the CBI team stepped over to shake hands and say good-bye to the diagnostic team that had saved Jane's life, he gazed at them all; two incredibly different teams, yet there were frays of friendship blooming between them as they parted words. Jane knew he was certainly not the only one on their misled trip that had been affected.

"Thanks for everything," Jane said amiably as he shook Chase's hand, then Foreman's.

"Our pleasure," Foreman replied simply.

Van Pelt shot Jane a look, and he sighed, knowing Cameron and Cho needed a second alone. Swiftly, he let his hand stray towards the table by the waiting chairs, supporting a dull-looking glass pot with fake flowers in it, and purposefully knocked it onto the marble floor. It instantly smashed, and dirt and thick glass spread everywhere as everyone stared for a moment, to see what had happened.

"Oh, so clumsy," Jane said lightly, eyes wide, as a janitor trotted over and offered to help. Chase and Foreman bent down to help sweep the remains of the pot away, as Jane glanced at Cho.

Cho blinked, and then stepped away from the distraction. So did Cameron, and they were suddenly inches apart from each other. Cho thought her wide eyes and wavy brown hair looked pretty today, and he swallowed hard, remembering that he'd broken up with her.

"I'm going to miss you, believe it or not," Cameron told him quietly, smiling slightly. "I like you."

Cho was quiet, and glanced towards Chase, then back at her, eyes uncharacteristically sad. "Not as much as him."

Unhappiness pricked her gaze, and she opened her mouth in defiance but he rose a hand, speaking first. "It's okay, Cameron. I don't blame you." He shrugged, and glanced away. "I liked you, too. But we both knew it wasn't going to last."

Cameron sighed, dismayed with how things were rolling out, and she shook her head. "I guess this is good-bye, then?"

Cho nodded numbly, looking at her. "Yeah."

They stood there, uncertain, for a heartbeat, then Cameron leaned forward and gently kissed his cheek; her warmth fluttered over Cho, and the tender, brief exchange was gone too soon as she fell back, biting her lip.

Cho reached into his pocket, and slipped her a small, wrinkled piece of paper into her warm hand, pressing her hand closed over it with a gentleness surprising of a man his size. He then stepped away, and turned back to his team, where the broken flowerpot was finally cleaned up. Foreman and Chase had noticed nothing.

"Thanks," Cho muttered into Jane's ear as the janitor walked away, and the team began putting on their coats and scarves, preparing for the snowy December day outside.

"You owe me," Jane replied, then, with a final nod at the diagnostic team, began leading them towards the doors and finally out of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. "Just kidding," he added with a little smirk.

Chase fell back, watching them go, as Foreman stood, arms crossed, before him. Chase didn't notice Cameron gently looking down, and unfolding her hand. Ever so softly, she unwrapped the crinkled note, and her eyes fell over the single sentence written neatly and quietly in pen.**  
**  
_Looking back, I have this to regret, that too often when I loved, I did not say so._

* * *

**Wow! That was super-short for me. But I hope you like it anyways!(:  
**

**Thanks for reading, but I'm afraid there won't be anything to read until next... uhm what day is it? Oh! Right Friday (haha) because I'm going on a week-long vacation to South Carolina, and I can't upload since the laptop we're bringing doesnt have internet :(**

**Also, the next chapter will be the last. I hope you guys enjoy the last parts of the story, because it's been awesome knowing all of you. So thanks! I'll see you in a week(:**

**Oh yeah- if anyone was curious, the quote Cho wrote to Cameron is by a guy named David Grayson. Just sayin(:  
**


	20. The Thorn

**Chapter Twenty: The Thorn**

* * *

___Life's a funny thing. More like a story than a biography. It's shocking, and painful, and hard; yet it's beautiful, and amazing, and powerful. It's a strange blend of beauty and darkness; and maybe that's why with every candle's flame, is a shadow. With every dawn comes twilight. With every laugh is a tear._

My trip to New Jersey and back was a journey. Now, back at headquarters, it's hard; Cho is heart-broken after losing Cameron. He's not used to feeling that much; but he's a fighter. He'll get through it.  


___And Lisbon... there is sadness in every movement, every word, every look. She's in love with Jane; I can feel it. I don't know what's going to happen, and I don't know how it will end; but he knows, too. He's probably known before she did. And I know I can trust Jane with Lisbon's heart, no matter how long she'll have to wait for him._

What about Rigsby and me? Well... I can't really explain it. The murder of that innocent hospital patient, the attack of Red John... it changed everything. Suddenly, it doesn't matter what Lisbon or the CBI thinks: Rigsby knows my soul is twined to his, and after the terrible thoughts of losing him haunted my mind, nothing will change that.

But what about the people we left behind? The trip from New Jersey back home, to here, to the warm air of California, was a hard one. I came to care for the people at Princeton-Plainsboro, and I can only hope our paths will cross again.

And what about House? He was a bitter man; a harsh, sarcastic, lonely man; but a good one. I want him to be happy... wherever he is right now.

* * *

A snowy, cold, chalky white light streamed gently into an apartment window; it was a little messy, and quiet, and empty.

But in the living-room, sitting on the couch, sat a shaggy-looking man with blue eyes and a black cane leaning against his knee. He finished pressing numbers on a telephone, and rose the curly cord until the phone was by his ear. It rang once... twice...

"Hello?" came a gentle, older woman's voice.

Gregory House swallowed hard, thinking briefly of Jane's final words whispered gently in his ear. "Hi, Mom," he said quietly.

* * *

Miles away, past the snowy, mushy streets of New Jersey, packed with glowing car-lights and quiet voices mixing with the cold wind, a brightly-lit cafe stretched shadows across the snow, and through the faintly tinted windows, warm air gently surrounded each person snuggled in their chair, eating their warm dinner.

Clinking forks, gentle laughter, and faint cheers flew by as a certain brown-haired woman and a blonde Aussie sat comfortably at their own table, two flickering candles between them, their gleaming holders shivering under the shadows the sparking light gave off.

"This is a great place, huh?" Robert Chase asked, chuckling.

Alison Cameron smiled, eyes sparkling as she gazed at him. "It's amazing. Thanks, Chase."

Chase chuckled, and shook his head, glancing around. They were still waiting for their dinner. "I'm glad the hospital's calmed down since Lisbon's CBI team has left. Although I do miss that action."

"Do you miss Karla?" Cameron asked, voice curious. She hadn't known the relatively-new nurse that well, yet her betrayal and sudden suicide had still been painfully startling.

Chase shrugged. "Not really," he admitted. "It's a pity, though. Why does every hot nurse have to be a criminal?"

Cameron laughed, pretending to be offended, and reaching over the table to smack him playfully. "Hey! What about me?"

Chase got a playful gleam in his eye. "You're beyond hot to me, Cameron, don't worry."

She laughed, and shook her head, sudden sadness pricking her throat. Chase's sweet remarks reminded her a bit of Cho. As Chase continued talking gently, she bit her lip, and reached into her purse, quietly slipping out her wallet.

Softly, she clicked it open, and saw the note tucked in the center, where it would always remain. It was creased and bent from all the times she'd sadly spread her fingers across it.

Looking back, I have this to regret, that too often when I loved, I did not say so.

Cameron bit her lip, and sighed, holding onto the image of the note for a heartbeat longer, then putting it away, and looking back up at Chase's adorable face.

* * *

Whoever thought a true decision came without pain was a fool.

It was dark.

The CBI headquarters had grown quiet; shadows grown outside, and people had gone home to sleep. Most people slept.

Patrick Jane found himself sleepless.

Laying uncomfortably on his couch- arms crossed, ankles crossed, eyes peacefully closed, aching for sleep to take him away- he listened to the last noises of his only home. It was Lisbon, gathering her last couple things  
and putting away some folders before finally stepping from her office, and shutting her door.

Jane felt the dark-haired woman glance at him, and then, her shoes clicking quickly on the floor as she began walking away, and down the stairs, towards the doors where her car waited outside.

Jane hesitated, opening his eyes slowly.

Over the past couple weeks since returning from their chaotic, yet moving trip to New Jersey, he'd grown distant with Lisbon. Everyone was painfully aware that she'd fallen in too deep with Jane, and he'd come to miss their old easy relationship; the cat-mouse fighting, the flirty friendship, the strange connection between them growing.

He missed the old Lisbon. The way things had been before she realized her feelings.

Jane finally sat up, and glanced at the stairways, where Lisbon had disappeared. Enough was enough. He knew tonight was his only chance to begin to fix things right.

Outside, in the cool night air, Lisbon walked quickly, sniffing as she rubbed at her face. God, she was such a mess. Her feelings for Jane hurt her so much, and was affecting her job. She wanted so badly to acknowledge it; yet how could she, when she knew Jane's heart would always belong to his dead wife?

She put down her bag when she finally reached her car, a cool wind rushing past her gently, curling her hair, murmuring in her ears. Sighing, Lisbon shakily got out her car-keys; they rustled and chimed as she hunted for the right one, muttering. She wanted badly to go home, sink into bed, forget all of this...

She thought she suddenly heard a door close, and she paused when there came soft foot-steps behind her. Frowning, she turned around, and froze to see a blond-haired man gazing patiently down at her, hands in pockets, as the wind ruffled his clothes softly.

"Jane!" she gasped, dropping her keys. Her heart immediately was thudding painfully in her chest. "God, you scared me." She cleared her throat and began to bent down to get her keys. It had been weeks since she'd been alone like this with Jane; and it made her heart ache painfully, because she missed the old days when things had been so much easier. When she hadn't wanted him like this...

"Lisbon." Jane's voice was low, and quiet. She hesitated, and slowly straightened back up, glancing around nervously before finally meeting his gaze. Patrick Jane gazed at her, sudden sadness and deep thought making his eyes cloud. His face was more serious than she'd ever seen, and her breath caught.

Hands in pockets, his feathery blonde curls shivered in the wind as he gazed at her, face empty yet handsome. The dark sky behind him only illuminated his face, and Lisbon didn't say anything as he gazed quietly.

"I have a confession," he said softly, eyes tender and sorrowful. "Think back... to weeks ago. That day, when I lay asleep in my hospital bed, we were alone. And you said something to me."

Lisbon's eyes widened, and she stared at him in shock.

He went on, voice deep, a gentle blend of rocks and the wind, of a bird's sad cry and the water splashing roughly onto a sandy shore. "I know, Lisbon. I wasn't asleep. I heard," he murmured, gazing at her face anxiously to see if she was angry by her confession.

Nothing but sadness spread over Lisbon's face, and she shook her head, staring at him. What could she say? It was confirmed. He knew of her feelings. Everything was ruined.

"I- I'm sorry," she managed, voice raspy.

Jane's eyes looked dismayed. "Lisbon, there's nothing to be sorry for. I would never blame you for anything in this. I only wish things had been different."

Lisbon bit her lip, sighing, and shaking her head in defeat. Her secret was out. Nothing more to fight for. "Me too, Jane," she murmured, glancing around the near-empty parking-lot. "Me too."

Jane took a step towards her, eyes brimming with... guilt? With a jolt, Lisbon realized he must be thinking of his wife.

"I won't make things hard for you," she sighed. "I'll transfer. Another team... a fresh start..."

Jane shook his head. "Running away won't change anything, Lisbon," he said softly, eyes sad. "But you have to wake up. It will never work."

A lump caught in her throat, and she nodded swiftly. She knew that. She'd told herself that time over and over again, but it still hurt to think it.

Suddenly, Jane was very close to her, and he murmured, "My heart was broken, and all I want now is Red John. And as long as I'm fighting him, I won't risk you or the team any more."

Lisbon shook her head, face unhappy beyond recognition. "No, Jane..."

Quietly, Jane gently bent down, and suddenly, Lisbon felt lightning crackle the air as his lips pressed tenderly against her cheek; he kissed her quietly, gently. There was no love, but deep sadness and affection in his soft gesture.

The brief, beautiful moment was over in a heartbeat, and Jane stepped back. "You are too beautiful a flower to be eclipsed by such a thorn like me, Lisbon," he told her quietly, his voice sorrowful, yet a hint of bitterness flickered in his words as he fell back, and, with a final glance at her, turned away, and began walking towards the shadows, until Lisbon was alone.

She stood, frozen, heart beating painfully. Gently, she reached up to touch her cheek, and a single, silver tear splashed down beside her hand, glittering in the moonshine.

_

* * *

____Things are not solved. Red John is still out there; we will hunt him, and the law will break him when we find him. But until then, we simply must go on living; our dangers have brought us closer together, and suddenly the world seems clearer, yet almost uglier to me._

Patrick Jane is the shadowy flame that will one day destroy one of the most twisted serial-killers alive; he is the flawed hero we need. But it is not that day.

Not yet.

* * *

**I'm sad this story is over. It was really fun writing it, and I'll miss its updates, but I'll miss all of you more. It's been great meeting and talking to all of you, and I hope we can meet again on here. Thanks again, everyone's been so amazing and supportive, and I hope you enjoyed the conclusion to my story. A big shout-out to **awesomenerd95, Argovia, MoonHawk92, Sarcasm-The Lowest Form Of Wit**, and **Dani 9900**, ****my biggest reviewers. I can't praise and thank each of you enough; and for everybody else who read and reviewed! I've said it a hundred times, and I'll say it again:**

You. Are. Amazing.

And, on that note... see ya(:__


End file.
